THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


"  Westwiml  tlie  course  of  empire  takes  its  way." — BKKKKI.KY. 

THE 

RETROSPECT, 

A   POEM. 

IN    FOUR    CANTOS. 

BY 

JOHN    AP    THOMAS    JONES. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT   &   CO. 

1884. 


Copyright,  1884,  by  JOHN  AP  THOMAS  JONES. 


PS 


PEEFAOE. 


IN  presenting  "  The  Retrospect"  to  the  public  the 
author  deems  it  almost  unnecessary  to  follow  the 
usual  custom  of  an  introductory  explanation.  The 
poem,  which  must  speak  for  itself,  had  its  origin 
simply  in  the  recreation  of  leisure  hours.  But,  the 
prompting  of  its  inspiration  is  freely  admitted  as 
having  a  higher  purpose ;  for  often  has  the  author 
felt  an  impassioned  desire,  as  he  saw  the  inarch  of 
progress  sweeping  away  every  landmark  of  the  pio 
neer  and  early  emigrant,  to  rescue  if  possible  from 
oblivion,  not  their  historic  record,  but  the  memory 
of  that  spirit  which  controlled  those  days  of  our 
Arcadian  simplicity.  As  a  narrative  poem  the  style 
adopted  is  that  flowing,  familiar  measure  easily 
read,  and  always  popular :  while  the  language  aims 


759804 


4  PREFACE. 

to  be  forcible  without  ostentation,  plain  without 
commonplace.  The  experience  of  the  writer  has 
particularly  qualified  him  for  the  work;  ;is  a  famil 
iar  intercourse  with  many  of  those  old  characters, 
now  passed  away,  has,  through  their  lives  and  their 
traditions,  given  him  a  fund  of  information  :  while 
the  landscapes  depicted  are  but  the  developments  of 
scenery  impressed  from  nature  upon  his  mind.  So 
having  finished  his  task,  a  pleasure  within  itself,  he 
presents  it  to  the  public,  for  what  it  is  worth,  as  the 
work  of  one  who  always  loved  the  picturesque  and 
poetic  in  the  history  of  his  people. 


THE    RETROSPECT. 


CANTO    I. 

'TWAS  eve — the  sun  had  grandly  rolled, 
Through  crimson  clouds  all  fringed  with  gold, 

In  triumph  down  the  west; 
But  left  behind,  as  king  of  day, 
His  twilight's  soft  enchanting  ray, 

To  meditations  blest. 
A  thousand  plants,  of  Summer's  bloom, 
Were  blending  in  one  sweet  perfume 

Their  breath  upon  the  air ; 
Where  all,  in  bliss,  appeared  to  fill 
Life's  transient  cup  without  an  ill, 

As  once  did  Eden  fair. 
A  stately  mansion  near  us  stood 
Beneath  a  grand  old  grove  of  wood, 


THE   RETROSPECT. 


Whose  ancient  roots  searched  deep  the  ground, 
Whose  giant  limbs  on  high  around 
Their  leafy  branches  spread  above, 
Like  wings  that  shield  a  brood  of  love. 


This  home,  beneath  this  sylvan  shade, 

Was  of  a  taste  refined  ; 
Around  its  handsome  colonnade 

The  woodbine  sweetly  twined  : 
While  on  the  lawn,  refreshing,  cool, 
There  stood  a  bass-carved  marble  pool ; 

Where  nymph-like  fountains  tossed  their  spray 
In  crystals  o'er  a  sportive  school 

Of  golden  fish  at  play. 
From  thence,  we  saw  the  distance  bound 
By  chains  of  mountain  foot-hills  round  ; 

While  in  the  valley  lay 
A  spacious  city  sending  high 
Her  towering  steeples,  to  the  sky, 

Which  caught  the  coming  ray 


THE  RETROSPECT. 

Of  rising  Cynthia,  queen  of  night, 
Whose  silvery  sheen,  in  ripples  bright, 
Danced  on  a  river,  rolling  free 
Through  rosy  banks,  to  greet  the  sea. 

This  landscape,  though  with  beauty  spread, 

Would  be  to  me  of  little  care ; — 
Earth's  grandest  scenes  are  cheerless — dead  ! 

If  woman  never  enters  there. 
In  Eden,  e'en,  when  Time  had  birth, 

Who  could  its  loneliness  withstand  ? 
But  woman  came  ! — the  gem  of  earth, 

The  masterpiece  of  nature's  hand  ! 
Then  changed  indeed  ! — how  bright  the  hour ! 

When  radiant  beauty  spread  around 
Her  charms ;  which  paled  the  fairest  flower 

That  bloomed  on  man's  celestial  ground. 

So  on  the  active  stage  of  strife 
We'll  raise  the  veil ;  displaying  life 
In  scenes  that  might  regale 


THE  RETROSPECT. 

The  senses  with  adventures  wild ; 
Or  charm  with  love's  devotions  mild ; 
Like  strange  Aladdin's  tale. 

Grouped  on  the  colonnade  a  band 

Of  lassies  clustered  in  their  prime, 
Like  fairies  from  a  dreamer's  land  ; 

Or  goddesses  of  Homer's  time. 
Their  tresses, — some  retained  the  ray 
Of  gold  that  crowned  the  parting  day  ; 
While  some,  their  sable  locks  so  bright, 
Reflected  back  the  coming  night; — 
And  this  bright  group,  all  young  and  fair, 
Sat  building  castles  in  the  air. 

An  aged  grandam  sat  alone, 

The  queen  of  life's  domestic  throne; 

A  link  she  seemed,  by  nature  cast 

In  silver,  with  the  buried  past : 

Her  locks  were  bleached  in  sorrow's  tide, 

Fair  as  the  robes  that  deck  the  bride ; 


THE   RETROSPECT. 

Yet  stately  was  her  mien  and  grace, 
Though  care  had  marked  her  noble  face. 

Her  mind  was  calling  in  review 

The  times  of  fourscore  years  or  more ; 
Her  dreams  awoke  old  scenes  anew 

That  long  had  slept  in  mem'ry's  store. 
The  stars  were  lighting  up  the  sky; 

But  she  their  beauty  heeded  not. 
The  fire-flies  were  flashing  nigh  ; 

Yet  things  around  were  all  forgot. 
'Twas  in  the  past  her  vision  trod, 

Retracing  all  her  paths  of  time; 
Or  paused,  to  view  the  verdant  sod 

Where  sleeps  her  own  best  love  sublime. 
It  was  a  pensive  hour  to  dwell 

On  dreamy  hopes,  or  fading  past, 
To  thrill  the  soul  with  rapture's  swell 

In  visions  far  too  bright  to  last. 

'Twas  then  a  lady  with  an  air 

Of  matron  grace,  relieved  from  care, 


10  THE  RETROSPECT. 

Stepped  forth,  exclaiming  with  surprise, 
As  beaming  nature  met  her  eyes  : 
Oh,  grandma!  see!  Oh,  what  a  sight ! 
How  grand  the  moon  shines  out  to-night ! 
It  looks — it  seems  the  world  awhile 
Is  bathed  in  nature's  sweetest  smile  ! 
It  was  not  always  thus  you've  seen 
This  word  in  tranquil  bliss  serene: 
I've  told  these  girls  how  you  could  tell 
Them  many  a  changing  story  well ; 
For  you  are  last  of  all  our  race 
Who  first  had  settled  in  this  place. 

The  youthful  band  took  up  the  plea, 
While  moving  round  like  fairies  free, 
They  pressed  her  hard,  in  merry  glee, 

To. hear  her  story  told. 
With  zeal  they  gave  her  love's  embrace, 
They  smoothed  her  brow,  they  kissed  her  face. 
Until  with  unaffected  grace 

She  gave  these  tales  as  told. 


THE   RETROSPECT.  \\ 

My  children,  I  was  dreaming  how 

Old  scenes  have  changed,  for  once  the  space 

Below  was  one  wild  wood,  but  now 
A  mighty  city  fills  the  place. 

Great  grandeur  fell  before  the  hand 

That  came  to  delve  and  till  the  land  ; 

That  laid  the  stately  forest  low, 

To  gain  what  labor  might  bestow. 

Back,  far  as  mem'ry  bears  my  dreams 

I  see — or  so  to  me  it  seems — 

A  village  fair,  of  rural  taste, 

Its  church  refined,  its  mansions  chaste ; 

And  then  a  scene, — a  busy  scene, — 

A  moving  long  conies  in  between 

That  place  and  after-years. 
But  I  will  make  my  theme  to-night 
The  changes  that  occurred  in  sight ; — 

Tales  of  the  pioneers. 

My  father's  bold  and  restless  will 
Was  of  a  nature  naught  could  still  ; 


12  THE  RETROSPECT. 

The  settled  scenes  he  left  behind 
Were  fetters  to  his  iron  mind  ; 
So  like  a  royal  bird  that  spread 
Its  wings  for  freedom,  father  fled, 
Away  from  men  !  away  he  flew  ! 
It  mattered  not ! — he  little  knew  ! — 
Until  he  found  this  place  to  fill 
The  measure  of  his  reckless  will. 

When  first  we  came  no  human  sound 

Had  broke  the  solitude  around, 

Save  but  the  savage  of  our  race 

Who  prowled  the  wood  in  search  of  chase 

And  I  have  seen  the  red  man  stand 

In  rapt  amazement  to  behold 
Reared  on  his  choicest  hunting  land 

The  wigwam  of  the  Paleface  bold. 

'Twas  then  indeed  sublime  to  see 
The  untouched  forests  waving  free ; 
These  valleys,  far  as  eye  can  reach, 
With  ash,  the  oak,  the  birch,  the  beech, 


THE   RETROSPECT.  13 

The  walnut,  elms, — were  filled  in  fine 
With  trees  unnumbered  ;  and  the  pine 
Crowned  like  the  plumes  of  royal  pride 
Each  mountain-top ;  while  down  the  side 
The  cypress  and  the  cedar  grew 
In  majesty,  to  charm  the  view. 

That  spot  where  stands  yon  marble  dome, 

To  all  my  youthful  memories  dear, 
Was  where  my  father  built  his  home 

Of  logs,  felled  in  the  forest  near. 
With  loam  and  leaves  he  made  it  proof 

In  every  seam  against  the  roar 
Of  winter's  blast,  and  for  the  roof 

He  spread  with  bark  the  structure  o'er. 
The  chimney  and  the  hearth  he  made 
Of  wicker-work,  and  overlaid 
Them  both  within  and  out,  entire, 
With  mud,  to  guard  against  the  fire ; — 
But  all  was  strongly  built  for  war  : 
The  very  planks  that  formed  the  door 


14  THE   RETROSPECT. 

Were  riven  from  old  oaken  forms 

Whose  strength  had  braved  a  thousand  storms. 

On  wings  of  thought  I  wander  hack 

To  childhood's  days,  o'er  memory's  track  ; — 

I  see  them  now — in  every  change 

Of  beauty  and  of  terrors  strange. 

When  nights  were  long  and  winters  cold, 

The  wolves  would  prowl  in  hunger  near,— 
Around  the  house, — while  in  the  fold 

The  frightened  lambs  all  cringed  with  fear. 
The  bears,  the  panthers,  and  a  score 
Of  consternations  spread  before 
My  youthful  path,  when  yet  a  child 
I  ventured  in  the  forest  wild. 
But  violets  sweet,  and  daisies  bright, 
And  roses  wild  allured  the  sight, 
And  made  me  all  forgetful  roam 
In  realms  of  beauty  round  my  home : 
And  madly,  too,  I  loved  the  rills, 
The  ceaseless  music  of  the  hills, 


THE  RETROSPECT.  15 

Ere  they  their  final  leap  would  take, 
To  rest  forever  in  the  lake. 
But  oh,  how  changed  ! — those  waters  feel 
Upon  the  lake  the  ploughing  keel ; — 
Those  dancing  rills  are  led  to  trace 
Their  sluggish  way  along  a  race, 
Until  each  bridled  stream  is  made 
To  turn  the  grinding  wheels  of  trade. 

But  we  should  not  repine  though  gone, 
Great  nature's  charm — for  at  the  dawn 
Of  culture,  came  in  beauty's  stead, 
Security  instead  of  dread  ; 
Security  to  live  in  peace ; 

Security  for  honest  toil ; 
Security  for  that  increase 

Which  wastes  not  as  the  huntsman's  spoil. 

Not  long  alone  were  we,  for  soon 
Another  came, — I  think  'twas  June? — 
The  second  June,  when  all  was  bright ! 
A  stranger  paused  before  a  sight 


16  THE   RETROSPECT. 

As  fair  to  see  as  e'er  the  earth 
Displayed  since  Mother  Nature's  birth. 
The  man  was  of  colossal  size ; 
Strong  as  an  oak  ;  with  eagle  eyes : 
Quick  as  a  panther,  and  as  bold 
A  man  as  ever  dared  the  wold. 
The  wife,  in  contrast  by  his  side. 
Unfit  to  stem  life's  stormy  tide, 
Was  of  a  nature  calm  and  mild  ; 
And  she  was  God's  anointed  child. 
One  child  had  they, — but  one, — and  he 
Was  like  his  father  strong  and  free, 
While  from  his  mother's  soul  he  drew 
The  grace  of  God  that  made  him  true. 

And  this  was  Reuben, — bless  the  boy  ! 

Who  through  my  days  of  childhood's  play 
Was  my  protector,  guide,  and  joy, 

And  in  my  after-years  my  stay. 
Once,  I  remember  well  when  we 

Went  forth  to  greet  the  fragrant  spring; 


THE  RETROSPECT.  |7 

Went  forth  in  youth,  with  spirits  free, 
When  song  was  on  the  feathered  wing ; 

For  all  the  grove  seemed  then  alive 

With  birds,  and  bees,  in  nature's  hive. 

The  birds  sang  love-songs  in  the  bower ; 

The  bees  sipped  honey  from  each  flower ; 

While  we  went  forth  to  hail  with  pride 

The  vernal,  charms  on  every  side. 

Yes, — we  beneath  those  arbors  green 
Of  arching  boughs  in  heedless  play, 

Went  onward,  charmed  with  every  scene, 
Regardless  where  their  paths  would  stray, — 

Went  onward,  weaving  garlands  sweet, 

Of  buds  and  blossoms  at  our  feet ; 

For  he  declared,  from  east  to  west 

He'd  cull  the  gems  of  Flora's  best, 

To  twine  a  diadem  for  me  ; 

The  peerless  queen  of  Flora's  lea. 

But  soon  beclouded  was  that  dream  ; 
For  in  a  glen  where  scarce  a  beam 


18  THE   RETROSPECT. 

Of  searching  sunlight's  strength  could  learn 
The  depth  of  that  dark  vale  of  fern, 
We  lost  our  way  ; — yes,  lost  our  pnth, 
As  if  the  spirit,  dark,  of  wrath, 
In  evil  mood,  had  come  to  blight 
That  glow  of  transient  blisses  bright. 

Lost!  lost!  I  know  that  awful  sound, 
With  solitude  supreme  around. 
It  checked  my  blood  like  winter's  blast; 
That  moment  seemed  indeed  my  last ; 
For  all  in  terror,  where  I  stood, 
I  saw  but  danger's  boundless  wood. 
But  in  his  strength,  of  manly  might, 
He  led  me  where  a  sunbeam  bright 
Broke  through  a  glade;  and  as  he  smiled 
He  asked  me,  "  Are  you  yet  a  child  ?" 
A  child  ! — As  I  that  question  caught, 
It  raised  a  strange,  o'erwhelming  thought, 
For  I  had  sprung  as  girlhood  grows, 
A  bud  just  blooming  out  a  rose. 


THE  RETROSPECT.  19 

And  oh  !  estranged  ! — there  seemed  to  yawn 
Between  me  and  my  friend  of  old 

A  wondrous  gulf,  when  reason's  dawn 
Revealed  myself  of  woman's  mould. 

Instinctively  I  shrank  away, — 
Doubt,  fear,  on  that  eventful  day, 
Possessed  ray  soul,  till  Reuben's  mind 
Displayed  itself  in  acts  refined — 
In  self-reliant  courage  rare ; 
In  gentle  words,  in  tender  care ; 
Until  my  feelings  soon  regained 
That  confidence  his  life  sustained. 
Bold  was  his  step  while  leading  on  : 

Light  as  an  antelope  and  free ; 
One  well  might  deem  all  danger  gone 

Who  had  the  privilege  to  see. 
But  as  I  watched  each  anxious  look 

With  which  his  roving  eye  would  stray, 
I  saw  with  every  path  he  took 

'Twas  hope  alone  that  led  the  way. 


20  THE  RETROSPECT. 

Then  I  to  cheer  him,  o'er  and  o'er 
Went  prattling  fancy's  mystic  lore, 
To  draw  from  superstition,  hope 
Found  only  in  diviner  scope  : 
For  where  religion  fails  to  hold 
A  people  in  its  sacred  fold, 
Their  hungry  souls  are  sure  to  cling 
For  comfort  to  some  occult  thing. 
So  in  that  wild,  unsettled  life 

The  daring  pioneer  must  lead, 
He  finds  but  little  through  the  strife 

On  which  the  Christian  soul  can  feed. 
The  very  nature  of  his  mind 
Has  rent  him  from  a  world  refined 
And  sent  him,  like  a  morning  ray, 
The  herald  of  a  coming  day. 
We  had  no  caste  distinctions  there; 
The  learned,  the  coarse,  the  tender  fair 
Leaned  all  alike  on  common  might, 
For  safety,  in  a  savage  fright. 
And  superstition's  idle  dream 
Held  almost  every  hope  supreme  : 


THE   RETROSPECT.  21 

They  pow-wowed  o'er  their  sick  for  health ; 
Misfortunes  came  by  witches'  stealth, 
And  great  were  they  whose  charm  could  break 
The  coil  of  the  wizard's  snake. 

One  wild  old  waif  surpassed  them  all ; 

Her  land,  her  lineage,  none  could  tell ; 
O'er  spirits  great,  or  spirits  small, 

She  claimed  to  hold  a  magic  spell. 
Half  savage,  and  half  civilized, 
Old  Cora  seemed,  and  highly  prized 
The  faith,  the  honor,  and  the  dread 
Her  very  presence  round  her  spread. 
A  captive  maiden,  crushed,  a  slave 
Her  lot  had  been  to  serve  her  brave ; 
Till  hardship  ploughed  each  gentle  trace 
Of  woman  from  her  wrinkled  face ; — 
Then,  like  a  sibyl-crone  of  old, 
She  gained  a  power  uncontrolled 
O'er  Indian, — and  the  white  as  well ! 
For  none  disputed  Cora's  spell. 


22  THE  RETROSPECT. 

Her  tales  were  those  I  told  that  day, 
To  cheer  us  on  our  doubtful  way. 
Tales  of  the  Fairy  Spirits  bright, 
Born,  as  she  said,  of  air  and  light ; 
When  Spring  returns  with  all  her  cheer, 
The  mother  of  the  fruitful  year. 
These  tiny  elves  seemed  in  her  mind 
To  hold  a  spirit  place  refined ; 
Created  for  the  special  good 
Of  guarding  mortals  in  the  wood. 

I've  heard  her  tell  with  zealous  vim, 
Tell  how  they  came  in  fairy-trim  ; 
Tell  how  the  snow-drop,  blooming  white, 
Was  planted  first  by  their  Frigid  Knight 
As  he  came  in  furs, — to  prepare  the  way 

For  the  King  and  Queen, 

In  their  beautiful  sheen, 
At  the  head  of  their  grand  array. 
And  how  the  Queen,  on  her  butterfly, 
Rode  with  her  maids  of  honor  nigh  ; 


THE   RETROSPECT.  23 

While  the  monarch  bold, 

On  his  bug  of  gold, 
Led  his  host  with  banners  high ; — 
With  flaunting  banners !  but  instead  of  drum, 
The  music  he  brought  was  the  wild-bees'  hum, 
Who  fed,  from  their  bags  of  honey-dew, 
The  motley  throng  of  the  Fairy  crew. 

And  the  rank  and  file  would  gather,  she  said, 
Gather  by  night,  in  a  moonlit  glade  ; 
In  mirth  and  might,  yet  ceased  their  sport 
To  build  a  throne  for  their  royal  court ; — 
All  built  of  th'  soft  white  silver-light 
That  falls  from  the  moon  on  a  Fairy-night. 

But  the  beautiful  Queen  was  the  brilliant  theme 
That  roused  the  crone  to  her  brightest  dream. 
Clad,  as  she  said,  in  gossamer  blue, 
That  changed  and  turned  to  every  hue 
The  Fairies  from  the  rainbow  drew, 
Or  robbed  from  even*  flower. 


24  THK  RETROSPECT. 

And  the  crown  she  wore  was  a  golden  stream 
The  Fairies  plucked  from  a  morning  beam ; 
Twined  and  twisted,  with  many  a  gem 
Of  rosy-dew,  in  a  diadem 

That  glistened  through  the  bower : 
Where  all  supreme  "she  ruled  in  might; 
While  forth  her  King,  with  armies  bright, 
Sped  out  to  guard  their  wood  by  night; 

In  pomp  of  Fairy  power. 

Here  Cora's  face  would  darkly  scowl, 
Her  voice  assume  a  sullen  growl, 
As  she  described  old  Giant  Grim  ; 
His  bulky  form,  his  massive  limb, 
His  staff  made  of  a  lofty  tree 
With  which  he  strode  the  forest  free, 
Or  stalked  across  the  hills,  to  steal 
A  brace  of  mortals  for  his  meal. 

Then  bright  her  wrinkled  features  grew, 
As  wild  her  zeal  and  fancy  drew 


THE   RETROSPECT.  25 

The  fall  of  Giant  Grim. 
'Twas  on  a  night,  the  moon  shone  bright, 
The  Fairy  choir,  by  its  light, 

Had  sung  their  evening  hymn  ; 
When  all  were  startled  by  the  sound 
Of  screams;  and  by  the  trembling  ground, 
That  told  the  Giant  prowled  around, 

With  mortals  in  his  hand. 
Then  to  her  herald-cricket  gave 
The  Queen  command,  to  call  the  brave 
Around  the  trysting-tree,  to  save 

That  earth-born  helpless  band. 

The  Fairies  hearing,  left  their  mirth 
In  swarms,  from  trees,  and  caves  of  earth  ; 
They  left,  from  where  the  blooming  rose 
Concealed* the  butterfly's  repose  ; 
And  from  the  ferns,  where  waters  leap 
Along  the  rock-bound  chasm  deep, 
To  do  their  Royal  King's  command  ; 
As  guards  of  their  enchanted  land. 


26  THE  RETROSPECT. 

And  as  her  tale  went  on  to  say, 
The  King  arrived  in  armed  array; 
Where,  mounting  on  his  toadstool -stand, 
He  hailed  his  legions  of  command  ; 
And  made  in  hurried  accent  loud 
This  proclamation  to  the  crowd  : 
"  Ye  Braves  !  we  have  a  word  to  say, — 
Stands  here  a  single  knightly  fay 
Who  lance  in  hand,  amid  this  gloom, 
Will  save  these  mortals  from  their  doom? 
If  so ! — we  pledge  our  Crown  and  Life, 
Our  Royal  Child  shall  be  his  wife !" 

Forth  stepped  a  knightly  fay  of  fame, 
She  said  'twas  Fairy  Dare,  by  name ; 
His  tiny  form,  right  brave  to  see, 
Was  armed  a  soldier  cap-a-pie.  * 
His  helmet  was  a  skull,  bleached  white, 
Of  humming-bird  gained  in  a  fight ; 
The  plates  that  formed  his  coat  of  mail 
Were  gold  and  silver ;  each  a  scale 


THE  RETROSPECT.  27 

Of  tiny  fish,  wrecked  on  the  strand 
Where  surging  oceans  storm  the  land. 

"  My  Liege,"  the  little  knight  replied, 

"  One  word  before  I  leave  your  side  ; — 

My  lance  unbought  is  for  the  right ; — 

At  your  command  I  charge  to-night : 

And  if  I  die,  let  no  one  say 

I  died  a  mercenary  Fay, 

Or  that  I  failed  my  King's  command, 

Till  purchased  by  his  daughter's  hand  ; 

If  I  return — I  now  disown 

All  claims; — unless  from  her  alone." 

Then  to  the  air  he  spread  his  wings, 
Two  gauze-like,  gilded,  speckled  things, 
And  like  in  size  but  as  a  fly, 
Dare  perched  on  Grim's  great  shoulder  high, 
Where  long  he  held  his  thorny  lance, 
Awaiting  but  a  Fairy's  chance 
To  work  his  purpose  well. 


28  THE  RETROSPECT. 

He  climbed  the  hair  and  eyelids  near ; 
Explored  within  the  Giant's  ear  ; 
But  not  a  vital  spot  he  found 
In  all  his  explorations  round, 

Till  in  a  weary  spell 
The  Giant  sought  refreshing  sleep  ; 
Beneath  a  thicket  dark  and  deep, 

Where  scarce  a  moon-beam  fell. 

Then  for  his  work  the  Fay  prepared, 

When  searching  round  he  found,  forsooth  ! 
A  chance  that  desperation  dared, 

A  cavern  in  a  hollow  tooth. 
So,  in  the  tooth  without  reserve 

The  Fairy  hid,  to  try  his  game, 
Of  battling  on  the  laughing  nerve ; — 

The  nerve  that  ruled  the  Giant's  frame. 

I  cannot  now,  at  this  late  date, 
Do  justice  to,  or  half  relate 
Old  Cora's  story  of  that  strife 
The  Fairy  waged  for  human  life. 


THE  RETROSPECT.  29 

But  from  his  cave,  all  undeterred, 

The  Giant's  tongue  with  might  he  speared, 

Until  the  wood  and  hills  around 

Were  moved  by  one  unearthly  sound 

Of  laughter  loud  ; — that  scarce  a  bird 

O  * 

Has  since  that  night  in  song  been  heard  ; 
Except  the  owl,  who  in  dismay 
Screams  frightful  yet  for  dawning  day. 

But  Dare  he  tickled,  might  and  main  ; 
He  scratched,  he  thrust,  he  charged  again ; 
While  Grim  with  howling  laughter  rolled, 
For  laughter  all  his  force  controlled, 
Until  he  weak,  and  weaker  grew, 
As  he  in  fierce  contortions  threw 
Himself  around,  and  gasped  for  breath, 
Till  Dare  had  tickled  him  to  death. 

Then  Cora  told  in  mirthful  glee 
How  merry  Dare  leaped  forth  to  see 
The  helpless  mortals  safe  and  free ; 


30  THE   RETROSPECT. 

And  how  he  blew  his  tiny  horn  ; 
And  how  the  signal  back  was  borne, 
That  called  the  Fay  of  phantom  light 
With  all  his  Jack-a-lanterns  bright; 
Who  lured  the  lost  bewildered  through 
The  wood  to  homeward  paths  they  knew. 

These  tales,  and  more,  I  told  that  day, 
A  parrot  keeping  fear  at  bay  ; 
And  I  in  faith,  indeed,  believed 
Those  tales,  as  truths  by  most  received. 
But  looking  up,  I  saw  revealed 
In  Reuben's  smile  a  doubt  concealed, 
That  banished  every  hope  I  drew 
Of  help  from  Cora's  Fairy  crew. 

Oh  !  I  remember  every  trace 
Of  Reuben's  frank,  expressive  face, 
As  I  besought  him  thus  to  tell    • 
What  he  believed  of  spirits  fell. — 
I  told  him,  father  said  a  youth 

He  was  of  deep  discernment  keen  ; 


THE   RETROSPECT.  31 

And  begged  him,  O,  to  tell  in  truth 

If  he  had  e'er  a  fairy  seen  ? 
For  I  have  heard  grim  stories  old, 

I  said,  of  ghosts  and  giants  dread ; 
Until  my  very  blood  ran  cold, 

And  terror  dazed  my  reeling  head. 
But  you  are  always  calm  and  still ; 

You  seem  to  fear  no  earthly  sound; 
What  is  it  that  controls  your  will  ? 

Are  there  no  terrors  lurking  round  ? 
IVe  often  dwelt  in  quiet  dream 

How  grand  it  is  to  be  like  you  ; 
And  longed  to  drink  that  precious  stream, 

Which  makes  a  life  so  brave  and  true. 

"  I  never  saw,"  he  said,  "  nor  could, 
These  air-born  spirits  of  the  wood.  - 
They  spring  from  superstition's  brain, 
Or  from  the  poet's  dreamy  strain, 
To  terrify,  or  please  the  mind, 
Of  ignorance,  or  taste  refined. 


32  THE  RETROSPECT. 

But  one  I  know,  of  passing  worth, 

A  fairy  form-like  child  of  earth, 

Who  far  excels  in  beauty  rare 

Your  figment  spirits  of  the  air. 

'Tis  not  her  robes  of  gaudy  glow 

Plucked  from  the  storm-cloud's  brilliant  bow, 

But  sparkling  eyes  dark  as  the  night, 

A  heart  supreme  in  all  that's  right ;" — 

But  modesty  forbids  me  tell 
His  glowing  words  of  praise,  that  fell, 
Like  sounds  eolian,  on  my  ear, 
And  thrilled  me  with  a  love  sincere. 
I  answered  not.     I  could  not  speak. 
I  felt  the  crimson  in  my  cheek  : 
But  with  an  impulse  naught  could  check 
I  threw  my  arms  around  his  neck  ; 
For  in  my  breast  had  burst  the  same 
Bright  glow  that  rose  from  Eden's  flame, 
When  God  first  gave  to  man  in  bliss 
The  rapture  of  Eve's  loving  kiss. 


THE   RETROSPECT.  33 

True  love  is  life's  celestial  flame, 

A  lamp  that  lights  earth's  darkest  hour, — 
It  was  a  bridal-gift  that  came 

When  man,  a  new  created  power, 
Walked  in  the  rich  ambrosial  grove 

Of  Eden,  ere  he  fell  from  grace : 
'Twas  God  his  Maker  gave  him  love, 

Before  he  lost  that  sacred  place. 
It  was  the  only  gift  divine 

He  bore  from  thence.     It  never  dies  ! — 
'Tis  Heaven's  own  ! — and  yet  'tis  mine ! 

To  bless  the  earth  !  and  bless  the  skies  ! 
O,  sacred  thought !  I  wait  the  store 

When  I  shall  join  my  friends  above, 
Where  we  shall  meet,  to  part  no  more, 

Around  the  hallow'd  throne  of  love ! 

That  day,  on  rapture's  pinions  bright, 
Care  took  an  eagle's  airy  flight 
Awhile  away  ;  till  terror's  dread 
Aroused  us  to  those  dangers  spread 


34  THE   RETROSPECT. 

Around  us  there, — and  changed  the  dream 
Of  earth  to  hope's  almighty  theme. 
He  cheered  me  on  with  tales  of  love, — 
Celestial  love, — how  God  above 
Beholds  our  wants,  and  sends  us  aid 
Unseen,  in  every  form  : — he  said, 
"  God  sends  us  blessings  in  each  shower ; 
He  breathes  from  every  perfume-flower ; 
He  whispers  in  the  rippling  rills  ; 
He  made  the  everlasting  hills; 
And  do  you  think  He  would  forget 
A  soul  on  which  His  seal  is  set  ? — 
That  seal  that  binds  us  to  His  shrine 
Of  hope  eternal ;  all  divine!" 

Then  smilingly,  he  said,  "And  you 
Have  wondered  whence  the  stream  I  drew, 
Those  waters  that  have  made  me  hail 
With  coldness  every  idle  tale, 
That  fills  this  grand  majestic  place 
With  people  of  a  goblin  race. 


THE  RETROSPECT.  35 

"  Know  then,  that  stream  the  saints  revered ; 

'Tis  inspiration's  Holy  Word  : 

Through  every  page  salvation  flows ; 

There,  Glory's  crown  of  mercy  glows ; 

And  there  alone  can  sorrow  find 

The  bairn  that  heals  the  wounded  mind." 

I  then  knew  little  of  that  Book, 

For  hope- eternal's  shining  brook 

Had  scarcely  cast  its  flaky  foam 

Around  my  good,  but  worldly  home. 

But  Reuben's  soul  was  like  a  star 
Lit  from  the  shining  gates,  ajar, 
And  cast  that  day  its  light  o'er  me; 
A  light  that  set  my  spirit  free. 
He  first  described  in  flights  superb 
The  beauty  of  the  Sacred  Word ; 
How  by  the  voice  of  God  divine 
The  sun  and  stars  were  bid  to  shine  ; 
And  how  the  cloud  of  glory  rolled 
Through  Zion's  temple,  lined  witli  gold  ; 


36  THE  RETROSPECT. 

And  closed,  at  last,  where  John  relates 
His  visions  of  the  pearly  gates. 


And  then  he  spoke  of  Giant  Grirn  ; — 

Of  Satan's  power ; — and  told  of  him 

Who  prowled,  and  prowls  the  stricken  earth 

In  fury  since  creation's  birth. 

How  by  ambition's  fault  he  fell, 

An  angel  peer,  to  rule  in  hell ; 

And  how  he  wears  a  subtle  smile, 

The  thoughtless  worldlings  to  beguile, 

As  raving  through  the  earth  he  strolls : — 

The  ruin  of  immortal  souls  ! 

But  when  he  touched  that  theme  above 
All  other  themes, — the  theme  of  love, 
His  mind  !  his  soul !  his  spirit  fired  ! 
He  spoke!  he  looked  !  like  one  inspired. 
And  in  my  mind  I  saw  the  view 
Of  Jesus  crucified  he  drew. 


THE   RETROSPECT.  37 

J  saw  the  crown  of  plaited  thorn ; 
The  sacred  brow  of  mercy  torn  ; 
The  crimson  drops  of  hallow'd  blood, 
Each  drop  a  world's  redemptive  flood. 
I  saw  the  anguish  of  the  eye ; — 
I  heard  the  Mediator  cry  ; — 
While  from  the  cross  appeared  to  shine 
Refulgent  beams  of  light  divine. — 
That  day — its  mem'ries  sweet  remain  ; 
For  I,  that  day,  was  born  again  ! — 
Born  in  a  wilderness  untrod 
By  Christian  foot,  a  child  of  God  ! 

Born  of  the  Spirit !— Thought  sublime! — 
O,  who  unmoved  can  on  it  dwell  ? 

A  life  that  knows  no  roll  of  time ! — 
A  holy  gift! — a  hallow'd  spell ! — 

A  person  of  the  Triune  one, — 

The  Comforter  sent  by  the  Son  ; 

We  scarcely  dream  a  Godhead  form 

Keeps  every  Christ-born  spirit  warm. 


38  THE   RETROSPECT. 

To  mortal  minds  His  hallow'd  course 

Seems  often  but  a  subtle  force, 

Like  dews  that  fall  upon  the  earth, 

To  feed  the  things  of  soulless  birth. 

Yet  strange ! — to  some  He  comes  with  power, 

As  lightning  through  a  summer  shower; 

To  strike  the  proud — the  haughty  down  ; 

Like  rocks  rent  from  the  mountain's  crown. 

While  some,  in  grace,  grow  like  the  gem 

Of  vernal  life,  on  nature's  stem, — 

A  doubtful  speck  that's  scarcely  seen, — 

A  larger  bulb  of  leafy  green, — 

A  bursting  bud, — a  brilliant  bloom  , 

That  fills  the  air  with  sweet  perfume. 

I've  seen  myself  a  man  of  sin 
Touched  by  a  monitor  within  ; 
Who  trembled  like  the  aspen  leaf 
When  first  he  heard,  with  bitter  grief, 
The  lost  estate  of  those  who  scorn 
The  blessings  of  the  sacred  born. 


THE   RETROSPECT.  39 

I  saw  him  bowed  in  anxious  prayer, — 

I  heard  him  cry  in  wild  despair ; 

When  to  his  soul  the  Spirit  came 

And  filled  with  light  that  child  of  shame. 

His  form  changed  not; — his  rough,  scarred  face 

Lost  not  a  single  earthly  trace ; 

But  when  he  spoke — profaneless, — calm ; 

We  found  the  wolf  was  born  a  lamb. 

That  man  to  sin  was  shackled  fast, 

Till  Jesus  cleansed  him  from  the  past. 

But  to  my  tale :     The  sun  for  rest 
Was  fast  descending  in  the  west, 
When,  wearied,  near  a  gnarled  old  oak, 
W"e  tarried  by  a  spring  that  broke, 
As  if  to  cheer  our  dark  despair, 
Bright  from  a  rock,  in  crystals  clear. 
We  bathed  our  faces, — drink  refreshed 
Our  anxious  hopes,  by  fear  oppressed  ; 
When  turning  round  I  asked  him  there, 
To  plead  of  God  a  guide  in  prayer. 


40  THE   RETROSPECT. 

Grand  was  that  orison  he  made, 

That  God  would  guide  us  from  that  glade 

It  sparkled,  like  the  dewy  leaf, 

With  sacred  faith  and  firm  belief ; 

And  poured  in  love's  most  earnest  plea, 

It  seemed  a  prayer  alone  for  me. 

The  prayer  was  done.     The  quiet  hush 
Was  broken  by  a  rustling  bush, 
That  startled  both  with  sudden  doubt, 
When  father's  dog  sprang  wildly  out ; 
And  dancing,  leaping  from  the  ground, 
As  if  he  felt  the  lost  were  found, 
Went  circling  round,  and  ran  before, 
A  guide  to  rny  own  father's  door. 
That  day  was  one  with  danger  fraught, 
^hat  day  was  one  of  sacred  thought : 
Yet  blest  is  still  to  me  that  day 
I  learned  to  love,  and  learned  to  pray. 


CANTO    II. 

THE  great-grandmother  paused,  for  here 

Her  story  reached  its  seeming  close  ; 
Amid  those  scenes,  to  memory  dear, 

Where  hope  had  found  repose. 
Amid  those  scenes,  while  years  remain, 
The  aged  love  to  walk  again  ; 
Transported  o'er  a  world  of  care 
To  youth's  Elysian  fields  of  air. 
But  those  around,  with  youthful  praise, 
Besought  her  to  recount  her  days 
That  followed  those  in  that  wild  grove; 
And  tell  the  sequel  of  her  love. 
But  she,  the  ancient,  dwelt  in  thought 
Like  one  by  seeming  doubts  overwrought, 
Until  her  eye  revealed  the  span 

Of  doubt  was  past;  and  thus  began  : 

41 


42  THE  RETROSPECT. 

No  dream  of  words  can  ever  paint 

Devotion  fond, — sublimely  true: 
Love-pictures  are  but  shadows  faint 

The  poet's  genius  spreads  to  view. 
True  hearts,  like  crystal  drops  that  meet 

Upon  the  petal  of  a  flower, 
Are  blended  in  one  union  sweet; 

Defying  fancy's  brightest  power. 
Love  smooths  the  troubled  path  of  life; 

For,  like  the  calm  and  limpid  tide, 
It  flows  above  the  ills  of  strife ; 

As  waters  o'er  the  rocks  they  hide. 
And  so  the  world  rolled  smoothly  on, 

Nor  marked  we  how  the  years  swept  by, 
As  time  entwined  our  souls  as  one, 

In  love,  in  hope,  in  rapture's  tie. 

The  seasons  changed, — enchanting  flew, 
Without  a  change  between  us  two ; 
Although,  by  observation,  they 
Are  often  types  of  love's  display. 


THE   RETROSPECT.  43 

» 

We  see  the  south  winds  softly  bring 
Coquettish  promise  in  the  spring; 
Then  turn  and  fly  with  all  their  charms, 
And  leave  the  world  in  winter's  arms. 
So  oft  the  doubtful  lovers  fly  ; — 
A  yearning  youth, — a  maiden  shy, — 
When  but  devotion's  earnest  sigh 
Would  melt  the  frost  of  folly's  fear, 
And  bid  the  bloom  of  hope  appear. 
All  bliss  was  ours.     A  buoyant  time 
Swept  over  Reuben's  spring,  and  mine : 
No  storms  disturbed  our  peaceful  rest, 
No  icy  doubt  chilled  either  breast. 
For  us  sweet  Flora,  through  the  bowers, 
Strewed  nothing  but  her  choicest  flowers. 

Then  tranquil  summer — bright  in  June — 
Comes  with  her  ripening  rays  above, — 

Comes  with  the  mocking-bird's  sweet  tune, — 
Comes  with  her  brilliant  beams  of  love 
That  strengthen  day  by  day  ; 


44  THE   RETROSPECT. 

Until  the  swain,  where  labor  spread 
The  seed  of  faith,  beholds  his  bread 

In  harvest's  rich  array. 
So  love's  implanted  faith  sublime 
Grows  stronger  'neath  the  roll  of  time, 
Like  to  that  blazing  orb  on  high, 
Undimmed,  undying  in  the  sky. 
All  brilliant  were  our  summers, — we 
Were  rustics  then — both  strong  and  free, 

Who  gathered  in  the  field 
With  all  the  neighbors  round, — for  hands 
Were  few  in  those  fresh  broken  lands, — 

To  harvest  in  the  yield. 
And  merry  were  those  days,  when  all 
Each  other  helped,  both  great  and  small, 
And  swelled  at  noon  the  chorus  long, 
That  lengthened  out  the  harvest  song. 
Where  Reuben  reaped,  I  followed  there, 
To  bind  with  skill,  and  loving  care, 
Our  golden  sheaves,  and  have  them  stand 
The  praise  and  pride  of  all  the  band. 


THE   RETROSPECT.  45 

Then  when  at  eve  the  twilight's  ray 
Dispersed  the  laborers  of  the  day, 
We  homeward  strolled,  while  all  was  still, 
Save  but,  perhaps,  the  whip-poor-will, 
And  talked  love's  air-built  castles  o'er : 

• 

The  garners  of  youth's  hopeful  store. 

Then  Autumn,  in  her  gaudy  pride, 
A  transformation  comes, — a  show 

Of  beauty,  as  the  forest  wide 

Displays  its  changing  leaves  aglow ; 

Like  love's  life-sunset  when  the  twain 

Have  reached  their  autumn,  sans  a  stain. 

In  their  kaleidoscope  of  years, 

Unblighted  by  remorseful  tears, 

They  see  revolving  o'er  and  o'er 

Their  brightly-tinted  days  of  yore ; 

Or  see  around  the  ripened  fruit, 

Of  children  trained  without  dispute; 

Where  aged,  honored,  parents  blest 

May  pillow  on  aifection's     reast  — 


46  THE  RETROSPECT. 

But  discord  sows  u  bitter  seed  ; 
When  age  shall  feel  devotion's  need, 
Alone,  they'll  find,  though  sorrow  grieves, 
But  Autumn's  dry,  dead,  cheerless  leaves. 
The  seasons  changed,  the  seasons  flew, 
Without  a  change  between  us  two. 
Our  love  was  like  the  pine  as  seen  ; 
It  lived  in  strength  a  fadeless  green 
Through  summer's  suns,  and  Avi  liter's  roar, 
Till  time  to  Reuben  was  no  more. 

E'en  when  the  howling  Winter  came 
With  sleeting  storms  and  driving  rain, 
It  still  had  pleasures  in  its  flow; 
Though  earth  was  shrouded  o'er  with  snow. 
For  brighter  than  the  sparkling  lights 
Of  jewel  stars,  on  frosty  nights, 
Are  lovers'  hopes ;  when  round  the  blaze 
They  talk,  and  dream,  of  brighter  days. 

I  often  stop  to  ponder  how 

The  things  have  changed  'tween  then  and  now: 


THE  RETROSPECT.  47 

This  house  so  grand,  with  comforts  rare, 
Its  frescoed  walls,  and  finished  stair, 
Its  velvet  floors,  and  stately  dome, 
And  wonder  can  it  be  my  home. 
And  strange  it  seems  from  far  below 
The  furnace  sends  its  pleasant  glow 
Of  heat  so  mild,  through  every  room, 
That  melts  away  the  winter's  gloom  ; 
As  if  the  art  of  man  could  bring 
The  fairy  breeze  of  endless  spring. 

And  when  I  wander  through  yon  mill 
The  sight  around  seems  stranger  still ; 
The  spinning-mule's  unnumbered  reels 
Have  far  eclipsed  the  rustic  wheels, 
And  cast  a  blessing  o'er  the  land, 
Where  once  the  overburdened  hand 
Of  woman,  night  and  day  to  win 
But  comforts  small,  would  toil  and  spin  ; 
To  spin  and  toil  she  seemed  a  slave, 
Between  the  cradle  and  the  grave. 


48  THE  RETROSPECT. 

Yet  all  these  modern  things  of  art 
May  be  but  trammels  on  the  heart ; 
That  throbs  in  forest  homes  as  free 
As  boughs  wave  on  the  mountain  tree. 

Our  cabin  home, — i  know  it  well. 

No  royal  palace  can  excel, 

In  charming  bliss,  the  winter  night, 

When  hearts  were  warm  and  sorrows  light ; 

As  we  sat  'round  the  blazing  hearth 

All  buoyant  love,  all  simple  mirth, 

To  tell  the  ventures  of  the  day, 

Or  watch  the  young  at  rustic  play. 

And  when  I  hear  the  modern  strain 

It  wafts  me  to  that  home  again ; 

And  in  my  heart  I  keenly  feel 

The  music  of  the  spinning-wheel, 

When  I  would  sit  with  Reuben  nigh 

And  spin  the  flax,  that  seemed  to  tie 

Our  hearts,  our  hopes,  our  thoughts  as  one, 

With  every  thread  my  fingers  spun. 


THE  RETROSPECT.  49 

But  many  a  day's  auspicious  morn 
Has  been  ere  noon  all  tempest  torn  ; — 
Yes,  many  a  ship  of  royal  power 
Has  foundered  in  its  proudest  hour ! — 
Once,  when  the  broad  green  woodlands  round 
Seemed  wrapped  in  lasting  peace  profound, 
A  band  of  wealthy  strangers  came, 
As  huntsmen  searching  after  game. 
A  guide  they  sought  around  our  place, 
One  skilled  ; — who  knew  the  wary  chase ; 
And  pressed  my  Reuben,  whom  they  made 
Their  leader,  through  the  woodland-glade ; — 
For  he  was  formed  by  nature's  hand, 
A  man  majestic,  to  command  ! 

There  was  among  that  stranger  train 

A  popinjay, — of  follies  vain  ; 

Who  pleaded  sickness, — want  of  care ; — 

A  nurse  among  the  ladies  fair ; 

And  stayed  behind,  to  play  the  part 

Of  foolish  suitor  for  my  heart. 


50  THE  RETROSPECT. 

He  told  me  tales  of  foreign  climes ; 
He  changed  his  theme  to  rapture's  rhymes ; 
He  spoke  of  mansions  rich  and  grand  ; 
And  placed  them  all  at  my  command. 
But  O !  the  contrast  grandly  shed 
A  halo  round  rny  Reuben's  head  ; — 
That  weakling,  to  my  darling  one, 
Was  as  a  rush-light  to  the  sun. 

Three  fleeting  days  had  scarcely  passed 

Since  Reuben  forth  the  hunters  led 
Before  our  homes  were  overcast 

With  deep  solicitude  and  dread  : 
For  near  the  spring,  we  found  around 
Deep  Indian  footprints  o'er  the  ground  ; 
Revealing  death,  and  savage  war, 
In  ambush  near  each  scattered  door. 
Then  darkly  deep  spread  terror's  shade, 
For  out  preparing  in  the  glade 
The  men,  or  nearly  all,  had  gone 
As  trappers  for  the  season  long. 


THE  RETROSPECT.  51 

But  Reuben  and  my  father  strove 
To  fortify  there  in  the  grove 
Our  home,  the  strongest  and  the  best 
Built  on  the  frontier  of  the  west. 
And  there  the  scattered  people  came, 
The  young,  the  old,  the  weak,  the  lame ; 
But  when  the  men  were  counted  o'er, 
The  stranger  only  numbered  four. 

.  That  day  of  days !  that  awful  day  ! 
The  trembling  crowd,  with  anxious  flush, 
Watched  every  movement  of  each  bush  ; 
For  every  bush,  to  all  the  crowd, 
Was  but  grim  Death's  dark  lurking  shroud  ;— 

The  wolves  we  kept  at  bay  ! 
Till  day  had  measured  out  its  span, 
Then  oh  !  Death's  carnival  began  ! — 
That  night !  O  night !  that  horrid  night ! 
Oh,  could  but  mercy  quench  that  sight! 
For  when  I  see  the  leaping  flame 
The  horrid  vision  turns  my  brain  ! — 


52  THE  RETROSPECT. 

Each  Indian  brought  his  fagot  store, 

By  stealth,  and  placed  them  near  the  door ; 

Then  with  a  fiend's  malignant  ire 

They  lit  that  pile  of  dreadful  fire  ; — 

The  smothered  smoke  soon  told  the  tale, 

How  naught  but  daring  could  avail  ; 

The  strong  the  weak  sought  to  inspire 

With  hope,  as  higher  rolled  the  fire ; 

While  all  the  hordes  of  open  hell 

It  seemed,  had  joined  the  war-whoop  yell. 

Despair  then  nerved  those  arms  of  oak  ; 
But  few  and  hurried  words  were  spoke; 
When  wide  the  door  was  open  flung ! 
And  quick  to  death  !  and  danger  sprung ! 
Bold,  noble  hearts,  who  sold  their  lives 
To  save  their  children  and  their  wives. — 
But  courage  there  could  not  avail ; 
For  I,  of  all  that  peopled  dale, 

Was  left  alone  to  tell 
How  by  the  blazing  glare  of  light 
They  stood  unequal  in  the  fight ; 


THE   RETROSPECT.  53 

And  how,  at  bay,  each  daring  brave, 
Without  the  power  to  strike  or  save, 
By  savage  marksman  fell. 

Then,  oh,  the  scene !  the  scene  I  saw  ! 

No  tiger  ever  licked  his  claw 

For  blood  that  from  his  victim  flew 

With  half  the  zest  those  Indians  drew 

Of  transport  dark,  while  gloating  o'er 

Our  writhing  children's  reeking  gore  ! 

But  from  the  house,  when  wrapped  in  flame, 

The  last  of  all,  the  stranger  came ; 

Not  like  a  man,  but  raving  wild, 

He  prayed  for  mercy  like  a  child. 

I  swooned, — 

And  when  that  night  again 
I  saw  through  my  bewildered  brain, 
The  scene  was  changed, — in  that  dark  hour 
It  looked  to  me  like  Pluto's  bower. 
I  saw  a  fire, — a  savage  band, 
In  groups  around  a  victim  stand . 


54  THE   RETROSPECT. 

I  saw  the  stranger,  tightly  bound, 
In  torture  writhing  on  the  ground. 
I  heard  his  wild,  his  piercing  cries; 
I  saw  them  sear  his  gleaming  eyes; 
Then  with  a  fiendish  impulse  dire, 
They  cast  him  on  their  smouldering  fire; 
And  danced  the  war-dance,  in  their  pride, 
Until  their  helpless  victim  died. 

Then  stirring  up  their  fire,  till  late, 
They  wrangled  o'er  my  trembling  fate ; 
When  near  a  hideous  Indian  came, 
A  savage  chief  of  bloody  fame, 
Who  claimed,  in  English,  that  my  life 
He  saved  to  be  his  pale-face  wife. 
Just  then  I  saw  the  rifles'  flash. 
I  screamed  to  hear  their  welcome  crash. 
Each  friend  had  marked  his  savage  well ; 
For  every  flash  an  Indian  fell. 
Surprise,  and  consternation  dread, 
Dispersed  the  rest;  all  quickly  fled, 


THE  RETROSPECT.  55 

Except  the  one  that  sought  my  charms ; — 
He  grasped  me  in  his  brawny  arms, 
And  strove  to  make  my  form  his  shield, 
While  backing,  sullen,  from  the  field. 

But  one  there  was  among  that  train 
Who  never  drew  his  mark  in  vain  ; 
I  saw  his  face  reflect  the  light, 
As  I  have  seen  the  moon  by  night 
Reflect  its  cheering  beams  aglow 
O'er  hope's  despairing  paths  below. 
His  shot  was  well  reserved,  to  see 
How  best  it  might  be  used  for  me, 
Then  with  a  nerve-controlling  will 
He  raised  his  rifle,  calmly,  still, — 
But  I  was  made  so  close  a  screen 
The  Indian's  form  was  scarcely  seen  : — 
At  last  his  head  showed  but  a  trace, — 
A  flash  ! — his  brain  besmeared  my  face ; 
And  I  could  draw  sweet  freedom's  breath, 
Though  folded  in  the  arms  of  death  ! 


56  THE  RETROSPECT. 

The  hunters  came, — but  ah  !  too  late ! 
Too  late  to  change  the  doom  of  fate ! 
They  found  but  death  around  the  place 
Where  all  was  life  before  the  chase. 
Then  hard  upon  the  savage  trail 
They  pressed,  to  see  what  might  avail, 
But  failed  to  reach  the  camp  before 
The  tophet-dance  of  death  was  o'er. 
As  Reuben  reconnoitred  round 
He  saw  me  pinioned,  on  the  ground, 
Then  gave  in  haste  his  hurried  plan, 
How  every  one  should  mark  his  man  ; — 
That  he  alone  would  save  me,  there, 
Or  perish  in  that  savage  lair. 
The  work  was  done ; — but  oh,  the  sorrow  ! 
His  all  were  gone, — but  me — his  Laura  ; 
And  as  I  stood  there  breathing  free, 
He  was  the  all  fate  left  to  me. 

I  soon  became  my  Reuben's  bride ; — 
Both  one  in  love,  naught  could  divide, 
Till  death  removed  him  from  my  side, 


THE  RETROSPECT.  57 

And  left  me  years  ago 
Alone  in  this  cold  world,  to  wait 
Till  we  shall  meet  within  that  gate 
Where  Christ  receives  his  own  in  state; — 

The  ransomed  from  below. 

The  smoke  that  rose  that  tragic  night 
Rolled  o'er  and  filled  the  land  with  friglit, 
As  when  the  Lord's  avenger  swept 
Through  Egypt's  skies,  while  Egypt  wept 
Beneath  those  dripping  wings  of  dread, 
That  left  in  every  home  its  dead. 
The  frontiers  mustered  in  their  fright ; 
The  nation  marched  in  martial  might; 
The  drum,  the  fife,  the  trumpet's  sound 
Through  days  and  nights  re-echoed  round ; 
And  told  the  tale,  how  savage  war 
Had  roused  the  land  from  shore  to  shore. 

My  Reuben,  like  a  star  of  fate, 

Rose  o'er  the  tumult  grand  and  great ; 


58  THE'  RETROSPECT. 

His  light  became  the  guide  of  all 
Who  gathered  at  the  nation's  call : 
And  rapid  as  the  meteors  fly, 
His  brilliant  course  swept  upward,  high  ; 
Until  he  held  supreme  command 
Of  all  the  forces  of  this  Ian  ' . 
His  very  presence  seemed  to  fill 
The  soldiers  with  a  dauntless  will ; 
While  with  a  corresponding  fear 
The  savage  held  his  presence  near ; — 
For  some  believed  the  spirit  Death 
Obeyed  the  white  chief's  flaming  breath. 

The  war  rolled  on  with  fearful  force; 
Destruction  widely  strewed  its  course 
With  tattered  wigwams,  scattered  graves, 
Green  couches  of  unnumbered  braves, 
Who  fell  believing  valor's  hand 
Could  purge  the  white  man  from  their  land. 
But  Reuben's  soul  was  bowed  in  grief, 
To  see  them  fall, — as  falls  the  leaf, 


THE  RETROSPECT.  59 

And  perish  where  they  fell : 
He  sent  to  every  tribe  that  bore 
Their  totem  in  that  cruel  war, 
And  bade  them  each  their  bravest  gend, 
To  meet  in  council,  friend  with  friend, 

In  kindly  greeting  well. 

Time  passed, — but  yet,  at  last  they  came ; 
Dark,  sullen  chiefs,  of  horrid  fame, 
In  all  their  war-paint's  fierce  display, 
In  blankets  robed, — in  plumed  array  ; 
With  arrows,  tomahawks,  and  knives, 
And  scalps  displayed,  that  told  the  lives 
Each  dastard  slew  ; — and  how  he  tore 
The  vanquished  victims  of  the  war. 

Arrangements  then  and  there  were  made 
To  hold  this  council  in  the  glade, 
Where  all  was  settled,  as  discreet, 
That  Indians  and  the  whites  should  meet 


60  THE  RETROSPECT. 

Unarmed,  except  each  leader  grand, 
Who  came  arrayed  as  in  command. 

I  saw  that  council ; — 'twas  at  night ; 
Within  the  centre,  glowing  rose 
A  fire  that  cast  o'er  friends  and  foes 

A  weird-like  phantom  light. 
The  Indians  round,  upon  the  ground, 
Appeared  like  ogres;  not  a, sound 
Fell  from  their  lips ;  while  those  who  came 
For  us,  commissioners  of  fame, 
Seemed  moved  by  every  fleeting  change, 
Of  novelties  around  them  strange. 

At  last  the  General — Reuben — rose, 
Eyed  by  his  fierce,  relentless  foes, 
And  thus  addressed,  in  mercy's  strain, 
Why  peace  should  bless  the  land  again  : 

"  Ye  braves !  to-night  around  this  fire 
We  welcome  every  Indian  sire  ! 


THE   RETROSPECT.  Q] 

We  meet  you  here  to  stay  this  wrong 

That  has  accursed  the  land  so  long ! 

No  woman's  spirit  nerves  the  whites 

When  striking  for  their  home,  and  rights ! 

And  well  we  know,  a  truth  sincere, 

An  Indian  never  knew  a  fear ! 

But  much  we  grieve  to  see  the  hands 

Of  soldiers  armed,  with  swords  and  brands ! 

To  see  for  naught  your  heroes  die ! 

To  hear  your  helpless  orphans  cry  ! 

And  now  we  pause  to  ask  you  why  ! — 

Why  shall  we  spread  in  death's  array 

Your  braves  as  food  for  birds  of  prey? 

Why  shall  they  not  live,  love,  and  roam 

In  peace  these  forest  glades  their  home? 

Ye  love  your  homes ! — ye  do  them  wrong 

To  battle  with  my  people  strong ! 

They  would  not  strike  if  you  would  give 

Them  friendship  for  their  love,  and  live 

In  peace  and  faith  like  brothers  should, 

That  dwell  together  in  the  wood ! 


62  THE   RETROSPECT. 

The  same  Great  Spirit  made  us  both  ! 

The  same  Great  Father  marks  the  growth, 

Of  all  his  children  ! — why  shall  we 

Contend  against  a  fixed  decree  ? 

Why  shall  we  not  this  slaughter  cease? 

And  why  not  smoke  the  pipe  of  peace  ? 

Why  bury  not  the  hatchet  here, 

In  honor,  faith,  in  love  sincere, 

And  live  beneath  those  laws  that  shed 

Their  peaceful  blessings  o'er  each  head  ?" 

Then  all  was  quiet ;  not  a  breath 
Seemed  moving  o'er  a  scene  of  death, 
When  like  the  rustling  of  the  leaves 
The  great  Plausawa,  chief  of  chiefs, 
Arose,  and  I  remember  well 
That  man  who  seemed  an  evil  spell. 
His  form  was  over  middle  height ; 
Compact,  elastic,  quick,  and  light ; 
His  features  like  a  vulture's  beak  ; 
An  eagle-eye  that  well  could  seek 


THE  RETROSPECT.  63 

An  unprotected  place  away, 

Where  he  could  swoop,  and  sweep  his  prey. 

His  face  was  painted  red  and  blue ; 

Around  his  graceful  form  he  threw 

A  panther-skin  ; — a  royal  gear, 

Of  eagle  plumes  and  beaver-fur, 

Adorned  his  head ; — while,  girt,  he  wore 

His  deadly  weapons  used  in  war. 

And  there  this  man,  of  fortune  ill, 

Arose  and  thus  expressed  his  will : 

"  Brave  Sungernumby,*  hear  ye  me  ! — 
The  Spirit  Great  but  smiles  when  he 
Beholds  his  red  men  roving  free  ! — 
Yes,  roving  in  these  woodlands  deep 
He  gave  his  forest-sons  to  keep ! 
Then  why  shall  we  that  race  admire 
Who  brought  his  people  liquid  fire?f 
Who  came  with  lightning!  in  their  hand  ! 

Very  strong  man.*  f  Whiskey.  J  Fire-arms. 


64  THE   RETROSPECT. 

Who  came  to  desolate  the  land  ! 
Whose  love  is  in  their  blazing  brand ! 
A  race  before  whose  blighting  tread 
Our  food,  the  forest  game,  has  fled. 
Brave  Sungernumby  !  you  behold 
In  me  the  chieftain  of  this  wold  ; — 
You  know  me  well ! — for  I  command 
The  tribes  around  on  every  hand, 
And  in  their  name  I  tell  you  plain, 
This  land  must  yet  be  theirs  again  ! 
Two  men  once  met  when  in  the  sky 
The  eye  of  day  was  rolling  high  ; 
The  first,  four  moons,  had  wandered  forth, 
The  howling  spirit  of  the  north  : 
His  hair  and  beard  of  frosty  white 
Fell  round  a  form  of  brawny  might; 
And  he  all  homage  would  command, 
As  frost-chief  of  the  frozen  land. 
The  younger  one,  of  blushing  mould, 
Who  met  this  hoary  figure  cold, 


THE  RETROSPECT.  65 

Wore  on  his  head  a  wreath  of  flowers, 
The  happy  child  of  blooming  bowers ; 
Around  whose  spirit-form  did  cling 
All  fruitful  blossoms,  born  of  spring. 
They  met,  these  men,  and  built  a  blaze, 
To  talk  to  each  of  other  days; 
But  as  the  first  his  story  told 
The  second  felt  a  blighting  cold 
Around  his  heart ;  and  in  despair 
He  almost  fell  a  victim  there. 
The  spirit  white,  by  power  strong, 
Claimed  all  must  by  that  right  belong 
To  him  ! — for  I  can  check  the  way, 
He  said,  and  mine  shall  be  the  sway ! 
If  I  a  river  meet, — but  thrice 
I  blow  my  breath,  when  on  the  ice 
I  cross  the  stream,  and  'neath  my  feet 
The  ground  becomes  a  frozen  sleet ; 
And  all  must  yield  where'er  I  go, 
I  bind  with  ice,  and  shroud  with  snow ! 
5 


66  THE   RETROSPECT. 

The  ruddy  Spirit-of-the-Spring 
Smiled  as  he  heard  the  braggart  fling 
A  challenge  out,  for  life  or  death, 
Then  calmly  blew  his  perfumed  breath, 
When  down  he  saw  on  either  side 
The  boaster's  arms  in  currents  glide, 
Who  passed  as  mountain-mist  away  ; 
While  Spring  remained  in  full  array. 
Your  words  are  smooth,  great  mighty  chief, 
But  words  can  never  give  relief 
When  Indian  children  cry  for  bread ! — 
And  can  an  Indian  Jay  his  head 
In  peace  upon  his  land  of  shame, 
From  whence  the  Pale-face  drove  the  game 
And  left  him  naught,  but  like  a  squaw, 
To  live  beneath  the  white  man's  law  ? 
Your  words  are  strong,  but  while  we  blow 
The  breath  of  war  your  blood  shall  flow  ! 
Like  water  ! — till  we  drive  you  home ! 
Back — from  these  forests  where  we  roam  !" 


THE  RETROSPECT.  67 

"  I'm  sorry,"  Reuben  then  replied, 

"  To  hear  Plausawa  now  decide 

To  struggle  on,  in  useless  strife ; 

To  waste  away  the  red  man's  life. 

My  people,  like  the  drops  of  rain, 

Are  numberless,  o'er  hill  and  plain ! 

And  like  the  flood's  resistless  power 

When  thunders  roll !  and  torrents  shower  ! 

They  surging  come  ! — and  naught  below 

Can  stay  that  freshet's  onward  flow  ! 

Pause  !  pause,  ye  braves  ! — and  think  before 

You  give  your  counsel  still  for  war  ! 

Pause  ere  you  send  Death  in  his  wrath, 

To  scorch,  like  lightni  ig,  every  path  ! — 

The  white  man  woul'i  not  strike  you  down  ; — 

You  need  not  live  beneath  his  frown  ; — 

We  speak  for  peace,  that  all  may  rove 

Like  brothers  through  this  mighty  grove  ! 

Remember  how  the  whirlwinds  sweep 

The  forests  from  the  lofty  steep ! 

So  will  the  war  sweep  hill  and  plain 

If  we  unbind  its  force  ao;ain  ! 


68  THE  RETROSPECT. 

But  if  we  bid  these  sorrows  cease ; 
If  we  but  pass  the  pipe  of  peace ; 
Its  smoke  will  like  the  rainbow's  cast, 
Rejoicing  tell  the  storm  has  passed. 
We  offer  peace, — that  it  may  cheer 
The  mother's  hope — the  children's  fear; 
And  turn  the  heart  of  every  brave 
Toward  his  home,  and  not  his  grave. 
Let  every  warrior  pause  and  think  ! 
For  now  ye  stand  upon  the  brink 
Where  but  a  step ! — you  may  too  late 
Forever  seal  your  nation's  fate  ! — 
These  brothers  great,  who  gather  near, 
Have  come  to  see ! — to  talk  ! — and  hear 
From  every  brave — that  burning  grief, 
For  which  by  war  he  seeks  relief !" 


Then  came  a  pause,  long  and  profound, 

Each  heart  beat  its  own  muffled  sound  ; 

But  none  their  hope  betrayed. 


THE   RETROSPECT.  69 

It  seemed  the  angel  dark  of  death 
Was  hov'ring  o'er,  and  filled  the  breath 

Of  every  savage  with  despair, 
As  they  the  time  delayed. 

They  saw  unmoved  Plausawa's  air, 
As  he  arose  and  sternly  said, 

"  My  answer,  braves,  is  but  this  knife  !" 
Then  raised  aloft  his  scalping  blade, 

That  terror  of  my  life. 
The  Indians  all  on  ruin  bent 
Responded, — grunting  their  assent ; 
When  Reuben  rose, — but  no  reply, — 

He  calmly  drew  his  shining  sword, 
Then  scanning  round,  he  raised  it  high, 

Accepting  war  without  a  word. 

Fierce,  wild,  and  dread,  the  struggle  rolled; 
O'er  mountains, — plains, — when  uncontrolled 
Contention  lit  again  the  brand  ; — 
Extermination  stalked  the  land ; 
When  armed  for  death  was  every  hand, 


70  THE  RETROSPECT. 

Until  Plausawa  sank  beneath 

The  war-cloud,  on  his  wasted  heath. 


From  that  time  on,  whene'er  I  dwell 

Upon  the  past,  it  seems  a  spell 

Has  wrought  the  wondrous  changes  wide 

I  see  around  on  every  side. 

Below,  a  fort  once  held  the  ground, 

From  whence  we  hear,  like  swarming  bees, 
The  hum  of  yon  great  city's  round 

Arising  high  on  every  breeze ; 
That  tells  how  peace  now  bids  them  drive 
Their  business  in  that  busy  hive. 

Yes,  on  a  field  of  blood  it  grew, 
This  city — for  the  conflict  drew 
The  men  of  every  clime  and  cast 
Together  in  the  distant  past. 
There  followed,  first,  the  martial  train, 
A  motley  throng,  for  good  or  gain  ; 


THE  RETROSPECT. 

Like  cormorants  some,  to  seek  th'  yield, 

As  vultures  seek  the  battle-field  : — 

To  pluck  the  savage  of  his  right ; 

To  rob  the  soldier  of  his  mite ; 

By  every  means  to  gather  in 

The  price  of  sorrow,  shame,  or  sin. 

The  honest  trader ; — and  a  crowd 
Of  restless  spirits,  true  and  proud, 
Of  stirring  men,  impulsive,  strong, 
At  home  alone  in  hurry's  throng ; — 
And  those  who  must  excitement  drink ; 
Although  it  dripped  from  terror's  brink. 

And  then,  again,  the  blessed  few ; 
Moved  only  by  kind  feelings  true. 
Samaritans,  who  sought  to  bind 
The  cruel  wounds  war  left  behind. 
They  came  commissioned  from  above, 
Guides  to  the  land  of  hallow'd  love. 


72  THE  RETROSPECT. 

Where  wars,  and  wounds,  afflict  no  more 
The  ransomed  on  that  deathless  shore. 


The  conflict  o'er, — the  varied  scope 
Of  every  soldier  found  its  hope, 
Some,  who  had  longed  to  reach  the  dome 
Of  peace  parental,  wandered  home  ; 
While  many  laid  their  armor  down 
And  stopped,  to  build  the  growing  town. 

Crude  was  the  hamlet  first  indeed 
That  rose  to  serve  the  moment's  need, 
Of  shanties,  huts,  and  cabins  small ; 
The  rover's  lodge,  the  trader's  stall  ; 
Of  boards,  and  logs,  in  rough  array, 
Built  only  for  the  pressing  day. 
But  as  the  land  filled  up  around, 
As  fields  of  culture  clothed  the  ground, 
The  hamlet  to  a  village  grew  ; 
For  trade  toward  this  centre  drew : 


THE  RETROSPECT.  73 

And  as  the  village  gained  renown 
The  place  became  a  trading  town. 

I  saw  in  all  that  social  flow, — 
That  great  commingling  tide  below, — 
How  man,  with  man,  when  left  alone, 
Was  to  his  reckless  nature  prone. 
But  woman  came,  and  like  the  dew 

That  falls  amid  the  shades  of  gloom, 
Her  gentle  presence  softly  threw 

A  suasion  round,  that  called  in  bloom 
The  buds  of  every  manly  part 
That  hidden  lies  within  his  heart. 
He  reared  his  home  in  better  style, 

He  robed  himself  in  better  taste, 
His  boisterous  laugh  became  a  smile, 

Frugality  succeeded  waste ; 
He  made  the  desert  as  a  rose 

To  bloom  along  her  gentle  way  ; 
The  world  around  was  all  repose 

Beneath  her  kind,  her  loving  sway  ; 


74  THE  RETROSPECT. 

Like  oil  upon  the  troubled  sea, 

She  calmed  the  current  of  his  mind  ; 

She  bid  his  stormy  passions  flee, 
And  gave  us  social  man  refined. 


Then  came  those  days  of  great  unrest, 
When  all  the  world  seemed  moving  West ; 
When  there,  a  stream  of  people  run 
Like  Pilgrims  to  the  setting  sun  : 
And  as  this  road  was  of  its  class 
The  best  across  the  mountain-pass, 
Here  poured  that  ever-ceaseless  tide, 
That  drained  the  country  far  and  wide, 
And  bore,  or  so  it  seemed,  a  trace, 
Of  every  clime  and  every  race, 
A  headlong,  heedless  swarm. 
Old  age  came  tottering  on  his  staff; 
The  youth  would  pass  with  merry  laugh  ; 
The  jaded  mother,  and  her  child, 
Went  dragging  on  toward  the  wild ; 


THE  RETROSPECT.  75 

A  frail,  too  oft,  and  helpless  band, 
To  break  a  wild,  unsettled  land 
And  brave  privation's  storm. 

But  as  the  current  onward  rolled, 

Some,  like  the  patriarchs  of  old, 

Moved  flocks  and  herds,  and  well  prepared 

They  bore  their  tents,  the  herdsmen  shared ; 

And  seemed,  indeed,  but  to  repeat 

In  substance  Abram's  life  complete. 

Then,  too,  the  heavy  teams  would  pass, 
The  symbols  of  another  class  ; 
Hale  farmers,  solid  men  of  worth, 
Whose  skilful  hands  control  the  earth, — 

Their  wagons,  on  the  road, 
Were  all  broad-wheeled,  and  iron-bound, 
Less  prone  to  cut  the  swarded  ground ; 

And  built  to  bear  a  load. 
Their  shapes  were  mostly  curved  below, 
Much  like  an  upturned  flattened  bow ; 


76  THE  RETROSPECT. 

While  overhead  were  arches  bent 
And  roofed  with  canvas  like  a  tent, 
To  shield  the  old, — to  house  the  young, 
Who  still  around  the  mother  clung ; 
While  by  their  side,  along  the  road, 
The  farmer  trudged,  or  driving  strode 
A  wheel-horse,  chosen  from  a  breed 
Of  strength,  peculiar,  for  his  need. 

And  then  would  come  the  humble  cart, 
That  served  a  poor,  ambitious  heart, 
Whose  wife  and  babe  perched  up  before, 
The  sum  of  all  his  earthly  store, 
Went  with  him,  toiling  on,  to  find 
The  Eldorado  of  his  mind. 


And  in  the  stream  the  pack-mule  passed, 
A  het'rogeneous  pile  amassed  ; — 
A  grand  display  of  human  skill 
Which  made  the  means  at  hand  fulfil 


THE  RETROSPECT.  77 

Their  dire  need  ;  and  with  surprise, 
I've  watched  them  oft  with  puzzled  eyes, 
To  see  how  such  a  varied  load 
Could  keep  together  on  the  road. 
The  loads  were  mixed,  of  bedding,  tools, 
And  grindstones,  packed  upon  the  mules ; 
With  axes,  scythes,  and  earthenware, 
And  stoves,  and  tins,  for  household  care ; 
The  food  the  owner  most  would  need 
Along  the  road,  and  bags  of  seed, 
All  lashed  around  so  close  and  tight 
The  beast  was  scarcely  left  in  sight. 

And  then,  the  ox-team's  movements  slow 
Was  ever  in  that  ceaseless  flow ; 
While  falling  still  behind  the  throng 
It  dragged  its  measured  pace  along, — 
A  gait  so  sluggish  none  could  stand, 
Except  it  moved  towards  a  land 
O'er  which  Hope  cast  that  phantom  beam 
That  dazzles  every  dreamer's  dream. 


78  THE  RETROSPECT. 

But  when  at  last  the  sun  for  rest 
Rolled  down  the  confines  of  the  west, 
Then  for  the  night  a  halt  was  made, 
On  mountain,  road,  or  in  the  glade, 
As  chanced  the  travellers,  there  they  stayed 

And  lit  their  evening  fire  : 
Where  all  the  labors  round  were  shared ; — 
The  mother  and  the  young  prepared 
The  evening  meal ;  while  men  with  care 
Groomed  all  their  horses,  spread  their  fare, 

And  did  what  might  require 
Sucli  things  as  needed  strength  of  frame ; 
As  hewing  wood  to  feed  their  flame, 

Which  burned  the  night  entire. 
For  every  camp  a  watcher's  blaze 
Kept  for  its  night-protecting  rays ; 
While  all  the  wayworn  sought  their  sleep 

In  wagons  round — on  nature's  breast, — 
Save  those  who  did  the  vigil  keep  :— 

Then  onward  for  the  West! 


THE  RETROSPECT.  79 

Yes,  sought  their  rest, — a  precious  prize 

To  honest  toilers  of  the  clod  ! 
Who  turn  to  God  their  hopeful  eyes, 

Though  resting  on  their  native  sod ! 
But  what  a  place  ! — a  dreary  blight! 

Are  beds  of  down  when  revel's  brain 
Seeks  for  repose,  as  fades  the  night 

That  marks  a  soul  with  sorrow's  stain. 
Sleep  comes  not  when  the  conscience  burns 

The  brand  of  doom  upon  the  heart, 
Nor  silken  shades,  nor  scented  urns, 

Can  bid  the  evil  haunt  depart. 
But  to  the  man  whose  life  is  spent 
In  worthy  deeds  of  good  intent, 
There  comes  within  his  honest  breast 
A  calm,  that  gives  a  peaceful  rest. 
Rest  for  the  weary ! — what  a  sound  ! — 

It  seems  an  echo  from  the  sky, 
While  guardian  angels  wait  around, 

To  guide  a  fleeting  soul  on  high. 


THE   RETROSPECT. 

But  as  I've  called  in  quick  review 
Those  passing  groups,  like  pictures  new, 
I  gave  but  scenes  when  skies  were  fair, 
Withholding  those  of  dark  despair 
That  daily  came  before  the  eye, 
Among  the  hapless  passers-by. 
But  time  has  never  once  effaced 
A  single  scene  that  anguish  traced 
Upon  my  heart  when  forced  to  stay, 
Beholding  wrecks  along  the  way, — 

Like  one  who  from  her  sea-girt  home 
Appalling ! — sees,  beneath  the  frown 
Of  storming  clouds,  a  bark  go  down  ; — 
All  helpless,  while  the  hopeless  drown 

Amid  the  seething  foam  ! 


CANTO    III. 

THE  moon,  round  as  an  ancient  shield, 
Full,  argent  burnished,  held  the  field 

Against  the  hosts  of  night. 
Eclipsed  were  all, — save  but  a  few 
Bright,  glowing  stars,  that  kept  in  view 

The  glory  of  their  light. 
But  of  the  group — none  marked  the  time, — 
None  marked  the  glowing  scene  sublime — 
All  listened  to  the  tales  as  told 
Of  their  determined  kindred  old, 
Who,  with  their  brave  compatriots  bold, 
Had  settled  first  this  trackless  wold, 

In  days  long  passed  away : 
And  listening  looked,  in  reverent  awe, 
On  her  who  all  those  changes  saw, 

As  she  resumed  the  lay. 

(i  81 


82  T*HK  RETROSPECT. 

While  in  the  West  the  mingling  throng 
Implanted  firm  an  empire  strong ; 
Its  days,  at  first,  saw  thousands  there 
Arrive  to  perish  in  despair : 
For  few  indeed,  who  felt  the  hand 

Of  poverty,  could  find  again 
The  means,  or  strength,  to  reach  the  land 

They  left,  to  swell  the  westward  train  ; 
For  through  the  country,  scattered  wide, 
The  onward,  outward,  selfish  tide 
Had  calmly  learned  to  coldly  see 
Privations  in  their  worst  degree. 


I  well  remember,  now,  the  time, 
'Twas  in  the  Summer's  middle  prime, 

A  drought,  when  days  were  warm, 
Had  lingered  long,  when  looming  high 
Along  the  margin  of  the  sky 
All  things  appeared  ;  forewarning  nigh 

A  coming  eastern  storm. 


THE  RETROSPECT.  g3 

It  was  indeed  a  busy  day  ; 
The  farmers  strove  to  guard  the  hay, 
To  stack  the  grain,  and  well  prepare 
Against  the  threatened  winds  with  care. 
At  last, — toward  the  evening  hour, 
Plutonic-black,  began  to  lower 
Both  east  and  west  with  swelling  storms, 
Which  rolling  came  like  mountain  forms 
Arrayed  to  meet, — and  filled  with  woe 
All  living  things  on  earth  below. 
The  wild  beasts  for  a  refuge  fled  ; 
The  cattle  hurried  home  in  dread  ; 
While  men  who  had  the  taste  and  time 
Beheld  a  scene  at  once  sublime. 
The  massive  clouds  approaching  rolled 
Wild  as  the  flocks  that  left  the  fold, 
Impelled  by  some  appalling  fright, — 
Or  like  the  eagles  in  their  flight, 
The  ragged  racks  careered  on  high ; 
Until  they  deeply  veiled  the  sky. 


84  THE   RETROSPECT. 

Then  for  a  moment  nature  stood, 
As  armies,  breathless,  ere  the  strife 

Arouses  up  the  fiend  of  blood, 
To  revel  in  the  waste  of  life. 

No  breath  of  air, — the  very  leaf 

Stood  motionless,  a  moment  brief, 

When  'thwart  the  dome  the  lightning  flashed  ;- 

The  simultaneous  thunders  crashed  ; 

While  circling  gusts  came  sweeping  by 

That  twirled  the  dust  and  leaves  on  high, 

Until  the  big  descending  rain 

Drove  all  things  back  to  earth  again. 

The  lightnings  flashed ;  the  thunders  roared 
Continuous,  while  the  showers  poured  ; 
As  if  indeed  old  Jove,  in  might, 
Was  storming  every  mountain-height ; 
Or  Noah's  days  had  come  again, 
A  deluge  in  the  falling  rain  ; 
And  this  terrific  scene  of  awe, 
Surpassing  all  I  ever  saw, 


THE  RETROSPECT.  35 


Continued  in  its  might  and  power 
Until  the  night's  deep  middle  hour. 


'Twas  on  that  wild,  tempestuous  night 
Two  women,  with  a  babe,  in  fright, 
Within  our  barn  a  refuge  sought, 
All  drenched, — for  they  were  tempest  caught ; 

And  near  appeared  their  end. 
Dark  was  their  gloom,  and  deep  their  care, — 
The  storm, — their  want, — their  blank  despair  : 
And  death-like  sickness,  too,  was  there, 

And  they  without  a  friend. 
But  He  who  hears  the  raven's  cry 
Neglected  not  the  prayerful  sigh, 

But  proved  a  friend  indeed. 
For  Reuben,  from  his  steady  course, 
Was  moved  by  some  resistless  force 

To  serve  their  pressing  need. 
Impelled,  or  by  an  impulse  led, 
He  rose  and  left  his  midnight  bed 


86  THE   RETROSPECT. 

To  go  and  see  if  aught  befell 
The  cattle  housed, — if  all  were  well. 
For  sleep  had  fled, — he  could  not  stay 
Until  the  coming  dawn  of  day. 

As  Reuben  went,  on  drawing  nigh, 

He  heard  a  baby's  sickly  cry 

Come  from  the  barn  ; — and  then  a  song, 

The  words  were  mixed  with  sobs  along 

The  lines,  that  bore  a  strange  refrain  ; 

Attuned  to  some  pathetic  strain. 

It  seemed  to  cease, — and  then  a  cry, — 

And  then  the  mother's  sob,  and  sigh, 

All  blending  in  this  lullaby  : 

Hush,  my  baby  !  though  the  thunder 
Tore  the  storming  clouds  asunder, 
Pouring  down  their  deluge  under, 

God  the  Father  ruled  the  sky. 

Hush,  my  baby  !  hush,  my  baby  ! 

God  is  love,  and  ever  nigh. 


THE   RETROSPECT.  87 

Stars,  while  clouds  above  were  weeping, 
Still  were  shining, — never  sleeping, — 
Hovering  angels  watch  were  keeping, 

While  the  tempest  rent  the  air. 
Hush,  my  baby  !  hush,  my  baby  ! 

Angels  watched  my  darling  fair. 

Dews  of  evening  feed  the  flowers ; 
Growing  harvests  drink  the  showers ; 
Little  baby's  brightest  hours 

Come  in  love's  own  peaceful  rest, 
Hush,  my  baby  !  hush,  my  baby  ! 

Sleeping  on  its  mother's  breast. 


Little  bees  will  gather  houey 

When  the  days  are  bright  and  sunny, 

Baby's  boon,  unbought  for  money, 

Is  its  sleep  without  a  fear : 

Hush,  my  baby  !  hush,  my  baby  ! 

Is  its  sleep  with  Jesus  near. 


88  THE  RETROSPECT. 

Daily  hours  have  told  their  number ; 

Butterflies  in  roses  slumber ; 

Nothing  should  thy  dreams  encumber; 

Blessful  dreams  from  realms  "above. 
Hush,  my  baby  !  hush,  my  baby  I 

Lord  of  mercy  guard  my  love ! 

When  Reuben  paused  to  learn  the  why 
Of  all  those  sobs, — that  sickly  cry, — 
He  heard,  while  moving  round  with  care, 
Behind  the  mow,  a  stifled  prayer 
Come  from  a  woman  pleading  wild, 
That  God  would  save  a  dying  child. 

It  was  a  breaking  heart  that  poured 
Her  plea  to  Him  her  soul  adored, 

As  few  have  ever  prayed  : 
For  with  the  child  she  craved  for  one 

The  hand  of  mercy's  tender  care ; 
For  one, — the  widow  of  her  son, 

So  true, — so  young, — so  fair. 


THE   RETROSPECT. 

So  true, — whose  steps  had  been  delayed 
By  filial  love's  unselfish  arm 
That  strove  to  shield,  from  every  harm, 
Her  tottering  age  through  dread's  alarm ; 
And  then  again  her  prayer  grew  wild, — 
"  Oh,  let  me  perish  !— Save  the  child  !" 

Then  back,  with  quick  impatient  speed, 
Came  Reuben  from  that  place  of  need  ; 
Came  bidding  me  arise !  for  Death 
Was  waiting  for  a  lingering  breath  ! 
While  one  was  sending  prayers  on  high 
That  she  mio-ht  for  another  die  ! 


But  then  an  anxious  care  arose 
Between  us,  how  we  might  disclose 
The  fact  that  coming  aid  was  near, 
Lest  we  might  terror  add  to  fear. 
I  bid  him  sing, — I  knew  that  voice 
Could  make  despair  itself  rejoice. 


90  THE  RETROSPECT. 

I  knew  it.  well ! — its  force  was  clear, 
As  sounds  the  trumpet  through  the  air 
When  cheering  on  in  martial  might 
His  braves,  recoiling  in  the  fight, — 
Or  soft  in  peace,  as  sighs  the  flute ; 
Or  gentle  as  the  lover's  lute ; 
When  friendship,  or  when  mercy's  call 
Had  roused  a  heart  that  throbbed  for  all. 


Then  rich  in  cadence,  softly  clear, 
He  raised  a  grand,  sweet,  sacred  air ; 
Which  rolled  like  swelling  notes  that  bore 
God's  promise  to  a  shipwreck  shore. 
I  never  heard  him  sing  again 

So  like  an  angel,  as  it  rung 
Clear,  yet  subdued,  that  blest  refrain 

When  thus  ray  noble  Reuben  sung  : 


Oh  !  bear  to  the  Saviour  your  burden  of  sorrow, 
His  all-searching  eye  is  beholding  your  grief; 


THE  RETROSPECT.  91 

Though    night's  sable  shadows    are   dark,  yet   the 

morrow 
Is  sure  by  His  promise  to  bring  its  relief. 

Though  wild  beat  the  tempest, — though  wild  winds 
were  blowing, 

The  Lord  o'er  His  children  was  watching  below ; 
And  from  the  free  fountains  of  grace,  overflowing, 

He  sends  the  rich  blessings  His  mercies  bestow. 

Beyond  the  world's  darkness  forever  is  shining 
That  Light  o'er  the  billows  of  sorrow  and  gloom ; 

Where  love,  and  where  faith,  and  where  grace,  all 

combining, 
Will  guide  to  their  glory  the  blest  of  the  tomb. 

Then  trust  to  the  Master  each  heart  of  affliction, 
The  Lord  calls  His  own  beloved  children  to  come ; 

And  He  will  reward  with  that  blest  benediction, 
That  fits  u.s  to  dwell  in  His  glorified  home. 


92  THE  RETROSPECT. 

While  time  shall  last,  I'll  ne'er  forget 
The  scene,  within  the  barn,  we  saw, 
On  entering  there, — I  see  it  yet ! 

The  woman  ! — babe ! — the  scattered  straw ! 
Recalled  to  me  in  majesty 
My  dream  of  the  nativity. 
A  woman  young,  of  queenly  grace, 
Was  on  her  knees, — her  hallow'd  face 
Was  all  aglow, — her  soft  blue  eyes 
Were  raised,  to  supplicate  the  skies. 
Love  swayed  the  soul ; — it  was  not  fear 
Which  brought  the  gush, — the  sparkling  tear, 
That  fell  upon  her  faded  child  ; — 
I  saw  it  turned  but  once,  and  smiled, 
As  first,  amid  the  gloom  of  night, 
It  caught  our  lantern's  sudden  light; 
Then  fainted  on  its  mother's  breast, 
Like  one  in  death's  eternal  rest. 

And  then  the  ag6d  saint  was  there, 
Relieved,  and  strengthened, — for  her  prayer 


THE   RETROSPECT.  93 

Had  brought  a  peace  unknown  to  those 
Who  stand  as  God's  rebellious  foes. 
Calm  was  her  brow,  her  spirit  won 

Faith's  resignation  from  on  high  ; 
Calm  as  when  storms  their  course  have  run 

And  left  to  peace  a  cloudless  sky, 
Where  glory's  hosts  triumphant  shine, 
With  all  their  radiant  lights  divine. 

Yet  haggard  was  her  face, — it  bore 
Deep  marks  of  dread  privation  sore ; 
While  with  a  modesty  refined 
She  still  displayed  her  cultured  mind, 
In  striving  to  excuse,  with  grace, 
Their  storm-forced  trespass  in  the  place. 
But  with  a  word, — a  kindly  word, 
We  checked  her  story — half  unheard; 
And  bid  them  move  with  instant  speed, — 
For  we  had  learned  their  helpless  need 
And  both  in  urgent  haste  had  come, 
With  help,  with  comfort,  and  a  home. 


94  THE  RETROSPECT. 

Oh  !  such  a  scene ! — when  grief,  repressed, 
Is  turned  to  joy  in  sorrow's  breast, 

I  never  saw  before. 

The  wringing  hands. — the  gushing  eyes, 
The  stifled  words, — the  broken  cries, — 
Gave  thankful  tokens  of  surprise 

At  mercy's  gifts  in  store. 

And  when  toward  the  babe  we  turned, 
Aglow  ray  heart  with  pity  burned  ; 
For  Death,  to  all  appearance  there, 
Had  marked  that  tiny  bud  to  deck 
His  march  of  ruin  o'er  the  wreck, 
Where  buried  lay  the  old  and  fair, 
Beneath  the  ploughman's  thoughtless  share. 

But  care,  and  watchfulness,  and  prayer, 
All  night  in  earnest,  constant  strife, 

Did  much  ere  morning  to  repair 
That  flick'ring  flame  of  life. 


THE  RETROSPECT.  95 

For  with  the  dawn  the  lengthened  breath 
Proclaimed  our  triumph  over  Death, 
And  health  returning  gave  again 
The  child  to  soothe  the  mother's  pain. 

But  she  who  kindly,  grandly  gave 
Her  life,  a  sacrifice  to  save 
The  little  babe,  we  quickly  saw 

Had  been  accepted  in  its  stead  ; 
An  offering  free,  to  fill  the  law 

That  gives  to  Death  his  numbered  dead, — 
Yes,  passed  away — to  realms  of  peace 
Where  cares,  and  tears,  and  sorrows  cease, — 
Yes,  called  to  furl — her  time  was  o'er — 
Life's  tattered  sails  on  Jordan's  shore, 
To  find  above,  at  Glory's  shrine, 
The  saint's  eternal  rest  divine. 


FAITH  was  her  name, — and  of  that  stock 
Who  followed  those  of  Plymouth  rock  ; 


96  THE   RETROSPECT. 

Strong,  earnest  men,  a  sturdy  race 
Who  every  danger  dared  to  face 

That  crossed  their  honest  path  : 
Be  it  a  wrong  to  freedom's  right; 
An  ill  that  might  their  conscience  blight; 
Or  war's  wild  raging,  when  the  fight 

Terrific  rolls  in  wrath. 
But  she  was  gentle  as  a  dove, 
Calm  in  her  faith,  strong  in  her  love; 
And  ever  ready  stood  to  share 
With  others  all  their  toiling  care. 

And  strangely  checkered  was  her  life, 
Its  joys  were  few,  and  much  its  strife ; — 
Her  maidenhood,  of  happy  years, 
Were  spent  without  affliction's  tears. 
But  scarcely  had  she  reached  that  hour 
When  youthful  bliss,  beneath  the  bovver 
Of  nuptial  love, — in  love  reclining, — 
Building  castles, — all  divining, — 
Deemed  earth's  cares  were  o'er, 


THE  RETROSPECT.  97 

When  o'er  New  England  widely  spread 
The  Revolution's  cloud  of  dread, 

That  told  of  coming  war. 
I've  heard  her  tell,  how  on  the  night 
Preceding  Bunker  Hill's  fierce  fight, 
She  heard  the  constant,  steady  tramp, 
Of  soldiers  marching  to  the  camp, — 
For  Charlestown  was  her  home,  and  there 

The  yeomanry  of  Freedom  came, 
In  all  their  conscious  power,  to  dare 

Great  Britain's  bands  of  martial  fame: 
And  first  in  Freedom's  host  to  go 
Her  husband  sped,  to  meet  the  foe  , — 
Sped  on  that  night,  and  left  alone 
His  youthful  wife  and  babe  at  home. 

That  night,  in  terror's  deep  dismay, 
She  waited,  weary,  for  the  ray 
Of  morning  ;  when,  behold,  around 
The  hills  were  seen  with  ramparts  crowned ; 
A  challenge  to  the  foe. 


98  THE  RETROSPECT. 

A  challenge  to  the  royal  host, 

Who  launched,  to  charge  the  rebel  coast, 

And  lay  rebellion  low. 
She  saw  them  land  and  charge  the  hill ; 

She  saw  them  storm  the  strong  redoubt ; 
She  saw  the  might  of  Freedom's  will 

When  Death's  wild  flash  rolled  fiercely  out, 
And  mowed  the  soldiers  of  the  crown, 
As  reapers  sweep  the  harvest  down. 
Recoiling  back, — they  charged  again, 
Like  wild  waves  from  the  angry  main ; 
Then  back,  again  in  terror  bore, 
As  breakers  from  a  rock-bound  shore: 
Again, — till  legions  fell  again, 
That  tyrants  might  a  land  enchain. 

The  while,  firm  anchored  on  the  tide, 
Lay  England's  royal  oaks  of  pride, 

Like  monsters  of  the  deep. 
Aroused, — their  guns  all  charged  with  shell, 
They  opened  ports, — when  fires  of  hell 


THE   RETROSPECT.  99 

Blazed  from  their  sides  against  the  shore ; — 
Their  thunders  swelled  with  awful  roar ; 
While  Charlestown,  all  to  sate  their  ire, 
From  hearth  to  roof,  was  wrapt  in  fire 

That  skyward  strove  to  leap. 
She  saw  her  home  in  embers  smoke; 
She  found  her  husband, — but  he  spoke 
No  more  to  her ; — by  Warren's  side 
He  bravely  fought,  and  nobly  died. 


There  was  her  home  in  ashes  spread. 

Flown  was  her  hope, — her  husband  dead  :  — 

Her  all  on  earth  were  gone, — save  one 

Poor  tiny  thing,  a  helpless  son — 

A  helpless  child,  where  all  could  trace 

The  impress  of  its  father's  face, 

Alone,  was  left  by  fate,  to  throw 

A  blessing  o'er  her  path  of  woe. 

Her  tale  was  one  so  often  told, 

It  seemed  a  theme  of  sorrows  old, 


100  THE   RETROSPECT. 

A  toiling  widow — sighs  and  tears — 
An  anxious  mother's  hopes  and  fears — 
Her  doubt  of  every  thoughtful  plan, 
Until  her  boy  became  a  man. 

Then  bright  again  her  star  arose, 

To  herald  in  a  hopeful  day, 
With  every  promise  of  repose, 

With  filial  love's  resplendent  ray. 
Such  love  as  cheers  the  mother's  heart, 
As  blunts  the  point  of  sorrow's  dart, 
As  smooths  the  rugged  round  of  life 
In  all  its  ceaseless  whirl  of  strife. 
E'en  in  his  choice,  a  fortune  rare 
Came  with  his  bride,  a  Christian  fair ; 
A  guide,  a  stay,  a  gem  was  she, 
Of  every  selfish  impulse  free ; 
A  wife  to  him,  a  daughter  blest 

To  Faith's  old  age: — like  Ruth  sublime 
She  gave  her  arm, — a  stay  of  rest, 

Supporting  down  the  paths  of  time 


THE   RETROSPECT. 

The  mother  of  that  one,  above, 
Whose  mem'ry  bound  their  deathless  love. 
So  bound  as  one, — their  home  was  strong; 
Love  there  reposed  without  a  wrong  ; 

No  jealousy,  no  jarring  strife : 
No  poison-fang  to  mar  or  blight, — 
They  knew  naught  but  the  path  of  right ; 

The  mother,  son,  and  wife. 
But  then  that  season  of  unrest 
Illumed  their  fancy  for  the  West, — 
For  they  believed  in  faith,  as  true, 
The  phantasies  that  Fortune  drew ; 
And  swelled  the  tide,  that  rolled  away, 
Along  the  onward  course  of  day. 

They  found,  indeed,  the  forest  grand  ! — • 
But  then  that  wild,  unbroken  land 
Required  the  firm,  the  steady  hand 

Of  might,  to  break  the  virgin  sod  ; 
While  all  their  strength  was  that  of  mind, 
Their  statures  all  were  light,  refined, 

111  suited  to  the  clod. 


102  THE  RETROSPECT. 

But  with  undaunted  courage  true 

The  father  built  their  forest  home ; 
With  comforts  equalled  there  by  fe\v, 

And  bravely  broke  the  stubborn  loam  ; 
When  fell  Disease,  with  blighting  breath, 
Came  as  the  messenger  of  Death, — 
Came  with  his  deep,  dark,  sullen  frown, 
And  struck  the  man  with  fever  down. 


I've  heard  their  story,  o'er  and  o'er, 

How  many  an  anxious, — trembling  hour 
They  watched  ; — and  how  the  patient  bore 

The  fever's  raging, — wasting  power  : 
And  how  he  firmly  clung  to  life, 
With  hope,  to  shield  his  babe  and  wife, 
And  mother,  where  a  savage  race 
Disputed  every  right  of  place. 

I've  heard  them  tell,  how,  when  the  hand 
Of  Death  he  felt, — with  dauntless  nerve, 


THE  RETROSPECT.  1Q3 

He  bid  them  sell  their  stock  and  land ; — : 
And  told  which  horse  they  should  reserve 

To  draw  them  back  whence  they  had  come, 

To  build  among  their  friends  a  home. 

IVe  heard  them  tell,  how  dark  the  day, 

When  in  his  narrow  couch  of  clay, 
They  laid  the  father  down  ; 

And  how  they  both  in  anguish  turned 

Heart-broken  from  the  home  he  earned, 
To  meet  misfortune's  frown. 

Their  steed,  howe'er,  surpassed  by  few, 
For  step,  for  strength,  for  kindness  true, 
Gave  both,  with  each  succeeding  day, 
New  confidence  along  the  way  ; — 
Until  at  last,  before  their  gaze 
They  saw  the  lofty  mountains  raise 

Like  bulwarks  to  the  very  sky  ; 
Where  Giants  might  their  revels  keep 
On  every  castellated  steep, 

Appalling  to  the  eye. 


104  THE  RETROSPECT. 

I  knew,  myself,  their  road, — so  grand  ! 
Just  as  it  was  when  nature's  hand 

Had  rent  the  rocks  in  twain  ! 
Or  had,  perhaps,  in  better  mood, 
The  hardship  of  the  way  subdued, 

Down  to  a  level  plain. 
I've  gone  with  Reuben  often  o'er 
Their  very  road,  in  days  of  yore, 
Before  the  vandal  hand  of  man, 
With  many  an  engineering  plan, 

Despoiled  rich  beauty's  store. 

Description  never  can  enhance 
Those  scenes  in  fact,  or  in  romance. 
Terrific !  wild  !  the  valleys  deep 
Would  terrify — or  from  a  steep 
Grand  landscapes,  that  all  words  defy, 
Burst  forth  on  man's  enraptured  eye ; 

Remembered  evermore ! 

Oft  would  the  road,  through  some  wild  glen, 
Wind  round  a  fern-bound  mossy  fen, 


THE  RETROSPECT.  105 

Or  lead,  where  naught  but  slippery  clay, 
From  leaping  cascades'  scattered  spray, 
Became,  through  gorges  darkly  deep, 
But  doubtful  footing,  hard  to  keep ; — 
And  then,  again,  would  slowly  climb 
To  those  broad  scenes,  so  rich,  sublime ! 
Of  which  I  spoke  before. 

These  anxious  women,  with  their  child, 

By  toiling  on,  had  nearly  gained 
The  boundary  stream,  that  does  divide 

The  rugged  from  the  rolling  side, 
Before  the  close  of  day. 

For  from  the  peak,  that  last  remained, 
They  saw  the  winding  river  run, 

Just  like  a  golden  thread  that  drained 
Its  color  from  the  setting  sun  : — 
But  long  they  found  the  road,  that  lay 
In  zigzags  down  the  mountain  way, 
Consumed  the  fleeting  time  before 
They  forded  to  the  distant  shore, 
Beneath  the  twilight's  ray. 


106  THE  RETROSPECT. 

And  yet,  though  worn,  with  eager  chase 
They  forward  press'd,  to  reach  the  place 

Of  some  encamping  outward  train  ; — 
For  as  they  crossed  the  ford  they  found 
Two  footpads  on  the  rising  ground, 

That  thrilled  with  terror  every  vein. 
The  scoundrels  begged, — but  all  could  see 
Some  deep  design  beneath  their  plea ; — 
When  startled  by  the  rapid  tread 
Of  horsemen,  both  the  villains  fled, 
As  if  they,  too,  would  cross  by  flight 
The  ford,  before  the  fall  of  night. 

But  fear  possessed  each  woman's  thought : 
Protection's  hand  was  what  they  sought, — 
On!  on  they  pushed  !  but  all  in  vain; 
They  found  encamped  no  coming  train  ; 
And  forced  at  last,  in  sheer  dismay, 
Strove  hard  to  hide  themselves  away. 
Deep,  there,  within  a  gorge  they  drove, 
Where  trees,  and  vines,  and  chaparral, 


THE   RETROSPECT.  1Q7 

Commingling  formed  a  darksome  grove, 

Like  those  where  wolves  and  panthers  dwell ; 
But  sooner  would  they  trust  the  den 
Of  preying  beasts  than  prowling  men. 


Poor  souls  ! — that  night, — terrific  night ! 
Hid, — crouching, — trembling, — all  afright, — 
They  waited  for  the  morning  light 

In  terror's  depths  of  gloom. 
Nor  were  they  wrong ; — at  last  they  heard 
The  sound  of  voices, — sounds  they  feared, 

Pronounce  their  coming  doom. 
They  heard  vile  disappointment's  oath  ; — 
They  heard  the  counter-plans  of  both ; — 
As  they  were  forced,  with  stifled  breath, 
To  hear  the  villains  argue  death. 
One  argued  murder  ; — for,  he  said, 
Naught  keeps  a  secret  like  the  blade  ; 
And  that  their  every  plan  might  fail 
If  one  was  left  to  tell  the  tale. 


108  THE  RETROSPECT. 

The  other  strove  against  the  knife, 
And  held  it  but  a  craven  shame 
To  take  a  helpless  woman's  life, 

When  plunder  was  alone  the  game. 
That  rob  they  could,  and  travel  on, 
Afar  in  safety  ere  the  dawn. — 
Just  then  their  restless  horse  revealed 
The  place  where  all  had  been  concealed  ; 
And  brought  the  robbers  on  their  prey, 
While  turning  from  the  search  away. 


I've  seen  these  women  deathly  pale, 
Rehearsing  o'er  their  frightful  tale ; 
Of  how  the  would-be-murderer  swore,- 
How  hope  seemed  gone  for  evermore  r 
When  fiercely  with  his  purpose  set, 
The  fiend,  to  carry  out  his  threat, 

Rushed  forth  to  strike  the  blow. 
And  how  his  comrade,  moved  aright, 
With  what  appeared  a  giant's  might, 


THE  RETROSPECT.  JQ9 

Hurled  back,  in  boisterous  fury  wild, 
The  worthless  dastard,  like  a  child, 

Among  the  brambles  low. 
And  how  the  craven  came,  in  fear, 
Back,  cringing,  like  a  punished  cur, 
To  make  his  act  a  jest  appear ; 

With  doubtful  step,  and  slow. 


Though  left  unhurt — yet  robbed  they  were 
Of  all  but  life,  and  dark  despair ; — 

A  babe  and  helpless  women  twain  ! — 
Their  tale  would  bring  but  tears  to  hear 
Each  day  of  hardship,  hope,  and  fear; 
Until  that  stormy  night  severe, 

When  thunders,  lightnings,  rush  of  rain, 

Drove  in  their  wild  alarm 
The  three  beneath  our  hand  of  care, 
To  find,  when  all  seemed  but  despair, 

A  covert  free  from  harm. 


HO  THE  RETROSPECT. 

The  child  grew  well, — the  fatal  spark, 

Of  death,  had  reached  another  mark  ; 

Had  reached  that  heart  who  pleading  gave 

Herself  a  sacrifice,  to  save 

The  little  life, — that  he  might  be 

A  solace  on  the  mother's  knee, — 

And  well  he  proved,  in  after-years, 

A  recompense  most  richly  given, 
To  her  whose  love,  through  toil  and  tears, 

Had  blest  a  soul  that  soared  to  heaven. 

The  failing  grandma's  forced  delay 
Forever  checked  their  homeward  way  ; — 

To  meet  each  day's  demand, 
Brave  Grace  determined,  while  she  stayed, 
To  try  her  skill  and  thrift  at  trade ; 
And  though  she  came  with  many  a  tear, 
The  smiles  of  Fortune  kept  her  here, 

An  honor  to  the  Land. 


CANTO    IV. 

SWIFT  rolled  the  time — the  hour  was  late, 
Yet  still  the  ancient  queen  held  state; 
While  round,  her  maids-of-honor  fair 
Had  clustered  near  the  royal  chair 
In  loving  mood — with  tender  care. 
Nor  marked  they  how  the  moments  flew ; 
Who  heeds  the  time  when  tales  are  new  ? 
And  these  to  them  were  stories  true. 
One  held  her  hand,  some  found  a  seat, 
Like  Paul  at  great  Gamaliel's  feet, 
While  all,  without  art's  skilful  care, 
Had  formed  a  group  beyond  compare. 

Then  to  her  band  this  sovereign  said : 
"  Time  flies,  and  I  have  long  delayed, — 
So  I  will  not  the  time  employ 

With  tales  about  the  growing  boy, 

111 


112  THE  RETROSPECT. 

And  all  you  cousins  here  can  tell, — 
Can  all  from  certain  knowledge  draw 

The  stories  of  his  manhood  well, — 
Your  grandsire — and  my  son-in-law  ! 

His  fame  has  spread  from  shore  to  shore. 
Where  mountains  rise  and  oceans  roar. 
In  Senate  of  the  nation  great, — 
Executive  of  this  grand  State, — 
A  minister  of  high  report 
Where  England's  Crown  holds  royal  court  ;- 
And  proudly  all  the  people  tell 
How  honestly  he  served  them  well. 
In  politics  he  stood  supreme 
For  honest  worth  and  noble  mien 
Among  that  class  which,  sad  to  say, 
Seems  destined  soon  to  pass  away. 

I've  oft  rejoiced — I've  often  told 

How  much  improved  are  things  of  old; 


THE  RETROSPECT.  H3 

And  yet  it  grieves  me  to  behold 

Corruptions  of  the  State. 
For  now  we  see  the  tricksters  guide 
The  fate  of  all ;  and  fraud  decide 
The  people's  will  for  selfish  aim, — 
And  I  have  wept,  to  fee  the  shame 

Of  this  our  modern  date  : 
To  know  how  in  the  slums  by  night, 
Where  Satan's  sulphurs  dim  the  light, 
Conspiracies  against  the  right 
Of  every  man  are  formed ; — and  men 
Are  chosen  in  perdition's  den 
Who  cater  to  the  every  taste 
Of  plunder,  wrong,  and  public  wast '. 


Once,  public  deeds  were  done  in  view 
With  every  honest  feeling  true, 
When  all  the  land  assembled  wide 
From  hill  and  dale,  on  every  side, 
To  hold  a  barbecue 


114  THE  RETROSPECT. 

Nor  was  that  feast,  now  passed  away, 

Barbaric  in  its  simple  day ; 

But  formed  a  pageant  rich  and  gay, 

Where  gathered  old  and  young. 
The  rich,  that  they  might  still  retain 
Their  vaunted  scope, — and  then  the  vain, 
As  sycophants,  would  toady  round 
To  every  group  throughout  the  ground, 

Where  pride  and  power  clung. 
The  honest  farmer  came  to  see 
The  would-be-leaders  of  the  free ; 
And  youth,  and  beauty,  rich  and  rare, 
Would  come  to  visit  fashion's  fair, 

In  all  their  bright  attire. 
The  ancient  mother,  matron,  maid, 
Would  come  to  grace  the  public  glade, 
With  men  of  every  social  shade, 

From  youth  to  tot'ring  sire. 

Political — the  public  call 
Proclaimed  a  festival  for  all ; 


THE  RETROSPECT.  H5 

Presided  o'er  by  chosen  men, 

Who  ruled  with  autocratic  power 
Supreme  in  each  sequestered  glen, 

Supreme  throughout  their  bower  : 
Supreme,  amid  primeval  trees 
Whose  branches,  hailing  every  breeze, 

Cast  cooling  shades  below  : 
Where  rustic  tables,  rough  and  strong, 
Were  braced  between  the  trees  along, 

Or  built  to  form  a  row. 


For  days  there,  on  a  spit-like  pole, 

Before  a  monster  fire, 
They  roasted  swine,  and  oxen  whole, 

Each  barbecued  entire  : 
And  all  that  pleasure  could  advance, — 
Pavilions  for  the  festive  dance —  - 
The  feast  the  coming  throng  would  share — 
The  managers,  with  every  care, 

Done  as  it  might  require. 


116  THE   RETROSPECT. 

Then  came  tae  morn — to  mem'ry  dear, 
And  found  the  anxious  land  astir, — 
For  twenty  miles  or  more  around, 

Found  every  class, — found  each  abode, 
Preparing  for  the  festive  ground, 

Or  moving  on  the  road. 
Their  wagons,  carts,  were  brought  in  play  ;- 
Their  equipage  of  rich  display  ; — 
With  crowds  that  footed  all  the  way, — 
And  speedy  horses,  dashing  gay, 

By  daring  riders  strode. 


Then  hands  were  clasped,  and  greetings  past, 

With  heart  throughout  the  ground  ; 
There  would  the  proud  forget  their  caste, 

And  with  the  plain  be  found  : 
Until  the  vast  assembly  grew 
As  neighbors,  firm  in  friendship  true, 
All  seeming  with  one  thought  in  view, 
To  find  the  men  of  state. 


THE  RETROSPECT.  H7 

And  knots  would  gather  in  a  crowd, 
And  call  for  favored  men,  aloud, 
Who  ready  found  a  stump  at  hand 
That  served  for  each,  a  speaker's  stand, 
E'en  for  the  ruling  great : 

And  easy  were  it  then  to  tell, 
As  cheers  rose  high,  and  cheers  rolled  long, 
In  wild  excitement  from  the  throng, 

The  man  in  favor  well. 

The  speaking  done,  a  jubilee 

Like  horn  assembled  all  the  free 

To  dinner,  'mid  the  wildest  glee  ; 

Where  youthful  knights,  with  gallant  care, 

To  win  their  laurels,  served  the  fair 

Around  the  teeming  board. 
And  in  return,  each  girl  would  serve, 
All  merry,  as  he  might  deserve, 

The  palate  of  her  lord. 
Then  to  the  dance,  the  mazy  dance, 

The  fiddle  and  the  piping  fife, 


118  THE  RETROSPECT. 

Called  through  the  afternoon's  expanse 

The  young  and  hale  to  active  life, 
While  Cupid's  arrows  flew  apace, 
And  filled  with  wounded  hearts  the  place. 

'Twas  in  those  scenes — those  scenes  of  joy, 

The  people  caught  the  sparks  of  light 
Shed  by  your  grandsire,  then  a  boy, 

Or  scarcely  more,  when  first  in  flight 
His  soul  sublime  took  wings  and  soared 
To  heights  the  weak  and  wise  adored. 
His  eloquence, — no  tongue  can  tell 
His  mighty  power, — the  magic  spell 
By  which  he  swayed  the  human  heart 
And  swept  its  cords  through  every  part. 
His  burning  words  each  soul's  desire 
Would  thrill, — and  fill  the  eye  with  fire ; 
Would  blanch  the  cheek  with  dangers  near ; 
Could  ope  the  fount  of  sorrow's  tear ; 
Or  at  his  grand,  majestic  will 
Bid  every  troubled  heart  be  still. 


THE  RETROSPECT.  H9 

And  such  the  man, — and  such  the  men, 
The  people  made  their  leaders  then ; 
But  oh  !  Behold  !  in  sorrow  bow, 
To  see  the  party  rulers  now  ! 
Machinery  now  rules  the  day  ! 
Professing  politicians  sway ! 
Who,  Arnold-like  in  shame  and  vice, 
Would  sell  their  country  for  a  price  ! 
God  help  the  people  if  they  stand 
And  yield  to  demagogues  the  land  ; 
Who  seek  to  ride  upon  the  tide 
Of  discontent  on  every  side ; 
Who  strive  to  foment  anger,  strife, 
Between  the  rich  and  poor  in  life, 
While  common  sense  will  tell  to  all 
We  must  together  stand  or  fall. 
God  save  the  land  !     Lord,  may  it  be 
A  land  forever  blest  by  Thee ! 
A  land  of  every  land  the  best ! 
A  refuge  for  the  world's  oppressed  ! 


120  THK  RETROSPECT. 

I  see  another  cloud  appear 

That  fills  my  aged  heart  with  fear  ! 

It  makes  my  cheek  with  sorrow  burn  ; — 

An  ill  that  modest  worth  should  spurn. 

It  is  a  blight  would  dim  the  rose 

That  blooms  on  purity's  fair  cheek, 
'Twould  chill  the  love  of  home's  repose, 

Exalt  the  vile  and  crush  the  weak. 
In  woman's  sacred  name  it  craves 

For  her  the  ballot's  sovereign  might, 
The  game  of  deep  designing  knaves, 

Who  clamor  round  for  "  woman's  right." 
What  are  her  rights — to  leave  her  home 
Amid  the  vicious  haunts  to  roam  ? 
Can  virtue  pure  remain  and  meet 
With  prostitutes  in  their  retreat, 
Like  snow  upon  the  filthy  street, 

And  hope  to  mend  the  time? 
When  men  of  strength  can  scarcely  stand 
Against  the  vile  on  every  hand, 

Who  glory  in  their  crime. 


THE   RETROSPECT. 

Heroic  oft  is  woman's  strife, 

When  sad  her  fate  appears  as  given, 
Contending  for  the  bread  of  life, 

To  feed  her  brood, — a  gift  of  Heaven. 
But  if  she  leaves  her  sacred  sphere 
A  land  accursed  should  quake  with  fear, 
To  see  the  worst  of  evils  near. 
Shall  Cleopatra's  evil  fame, — 
Shall  vile  Aspasia's  open  shame, 

Blight  Liberty's  fair  brow  ? 
And  spread  their  curse  o'er  every  hearth, 
Where  sits  a  wife  of  moral  worth, 

In  peace  and  comfort  now. 
Almighty  hope !   forbid  the  crime  ! 
Long  may  true  mothers  rule  sublime, 
By  Christian  home-love's  guiding  hand  ! — 
The  will  that  trains  ! — controls  the  land  ! — 
We  see  in  Moses,  now,  the  plan, 
WThom  God  ordained  to  mould  the  man  ! 

But  I  must  cease  my  gloomy  wail, — 
A  plain  old  woman's  simple  tale 


122  THE  RETROSPECT. 

Was  all  at  first  I  thought  to  trace, 

And  tell  how  time  had  changed  the  place, 

But  strange  'twill  seem  when  strangers  tread, 

In  coming  years,  among  our  dead, 

To  see  a  tomb  inscribed — "  Unknown," 

As  one  among  our  sacred  own  : 

And  as  my  days  are  nearly  o'er, 

I'll  tell  you  all  just  how  it  came, 
A  stranger's  tomb  that  never  bore 

A  shadowy  trace  of  home  or  name, — 
The  story  runs  in  times  of  old ; 
Among  the  early  dates  I  told. 


'  Twas  in  the  Winter, — blighting  chill, 
The  bleak  winds  swept  from  every  hill ; — 
Came  howling  'mid  the  branches  bare ; — 
Came  whirling  dead  leaves  through  the  air; — 
As  men  brought  in  the  wood,  with  care, 
To  keep  our  hearth,  of  bliss,  aglow 
Through  that  portentous  storm  of  snow ; 


THE  RETROSPECT.  123 

For  well  we  knew  the  signs  o'erhead, 

When  leaden  clouds  all  overspread 

The  skies  with  nature's  sullen  frown, 

The  storm  must  soon  come  sweeping  down ; 

And  so  it  did  !  ere  morning's  hour, 

With  wild  Siberia's  driving  power, 

It  came — and  baffles  now  to  tell, 

In  language,  how  all  day  it  fell ; 

Until  in  drifts,  and  plains  below, 

The  world  lay  buried  deep  in  snow. 

That  gloomy  day,  its  sombre  light, 
Was  blending  with  the  gathering  night ; 
When  in  our  servant  rushed,  to  state, 
1 A  crazy  man  was  at  the  gate  : 
A  wild-like — helpless — half-clad  form, 
That  seemed  nigh  frozen  by  the  storm.' 
We  sought  the  door,  and  standing  saw 
A  figure  strange,  that  filled  with  awe 
My  heart, — in  all  my  checkered  days 
I  never  saw  so  wild  a  gaze  ! 


124  THE  RETROSPECT. 

There,  weird  indeed,  the  figure  stood, 
Like  some  wild  spectre  of  the  wood, 
Clothed  in  a  garb  of  scant  array 
Unfit  to  brave  a  winter's  day. 

His  moccasins  were  thin  and  old  ; 
His  pants  were  worn  at  every  fold ; 
And  coatless  was  his  shivering  form 
While  round,  to  guard  him  from  the  storm, 
He  drew  a  blanket,  thin  and  bare, 
That  stood  as  naught  against  the  air. 
Grotesque,  upon  his  head  a  gear 
He  wore,  of  crape  and  raccoon  fur, 
Which  ended  with  the  striped  tails, 
That  hung  behind  a  brace  of  trails : 
While  round  his  neck,  beneath  his  jaw, 
He  wrapped  a  heavy  twist  of  straw ; — 
And  then  what  added  to  the  sight, 
The  man,  with  snow,  was  covered  white. 

Blue  was  his  face, — the  chill  of  death 
Seemed  breathing  from  his  icy  breath, 


THE  RETROSPECT.  ]25 

That  rose  as  vapor,  and  appeared 
Like  frost  upon  his  frozen  beard  ; — 
That  sight  unpitied  none  could  see, 
'Twas  suffering  in  its  worst  degree. 
I  now  can  see  his  features  thin, 
As  Reuben  strove  to  coax  him  in, 
From  out  that  wild  and  blinding  storm, 
To  share  a  refuge  safe  and  warm. 

Wild  was  his  look, — his  vacant  stare 
Made  up  the  picture  of  despair; 
Yet  while  refusing  every  aid, 
ILL  wandering  words,  he  kindly  said, 
'  I  have  no  time,  by  night  or  morn  ! — 
My  pilgrimage  is  onward  ! — on  ! 

I'll  grasp  the  wind  ! — 

I'll  safely  bind  ! 
The  tempest  with  a  string  ! 

And  then  all  day 

I'll  watch  and  pray, 
And  hear  the  angels  sing ! 


126  THE  RETROSPECT. 

Do  you  hear  !  do  you  hear  ! 
How  sweetly,  and  clear, 
They  warble  around  !  they're  ever  near !' 


And  yet  again  ! — again  we  tiued, 

To  have  him  but  that  stormy  night 
Come  in,  and  safely  there  abide 

Until  the  morrow's  dawning  light, 
And  break  with  us  our  evening  bread, 
That  stood  upon  the  table  spread. 
He  paused — then  heaved  a  heavy  sigh, 
While  something  calmed  his  restless  eye ; — 
Yet  still  Jie  gave  this  strange  reply: 
1  I'll  catch  the  snow 
The  wild  winds  blow, 
For  meal  to  make  my  bread  ! 
But  who  will  make 
The  bread,  and  bake, 
For  my  poor  wife  is  dead  ! 
Whoo !  whoo  !  what  a  dirge  ! 


THE  RETROSPECT.  127 

Around  her  grave  these  wild  winds  surge ! 
But  storms  must  cease  at  glory's  verge !' 

All  seemed  as  useless, — every  plea 
Was  wasted,  to  the  last  degree, 
Upon  the  man,  who  failed  to  see 

Naught  but  his  visions  wild. 
When  smiling  came  behind,  to  scan, 
And  peeped,  to  see  the  '  stranger-man/ 

Your  grandma,  then  a  child. 
Her  tiny  smile  was  like  a  ray, — 
It  drove  his  clouds  of  doubt  away, 

The  man  at  once  was  changed. 
He  came,  and  took  the  proffered  chair, 
He  shared  the  table's  waiting  fare, 
And  spent  within  the  evening  there, 

In  not  the  least  estranged  : 
And  freely  talked, — though  strangely  wild, 

Yet  lucid  moments  came ; 
When  he  appeared  serenely  mild, 

Then  thus  would  often  name 


128  THE  RETROSPECT. 

His  wife ;   who  ever  seemed  a  part 
Of  every  dream  that  filled  his  heart: 

'  I  had  a  wife !  I  blest  the  hour 
I  took  my  Marg'ret,  not  a  flower 
That  ever  bloomed  was  half  so  bright 
As  she,  my  heart ! — her  eyes  of  light 
Shone  like  that  pure  and  fadeless  guide 
Which  seamen  watch  across  the  tide, — 
True  as  that  star,  which  marks  the  pole, 
Was  Marg'ret's  faith,  that  thrilled  her  soul. 
But  Glory's  gracious  courts  above 
Were  wanting  angels;  and  my  love 
They  called  to  realms  of  bliss  on  high, 
Amid  the  mansions  of  the  sky  ; 

Where  storms  shall  cease ! 

Where  all  is  peace  ! 
But  yet  they  left  our  callow  dove, 
Our  own,  one,  precious  pledge  of  love. 

'  But  oh  !  when  in  the  chilly  grave 

They  laid  her  form, — all  pleasure  fled  ! 


THE  RETROSPECT.  129 

For  all  that  earth  in  transport  gave 

To  me,  lay  sleeping  with  the  dead. 
It  was  not  death  ! — she  could  not  die  ! 

I  knew  my  darling  only  slept, 
And  o'er  her  grave,  when  none  were  nigh, 

I  nightly  prayed,  and  watched,  and  wept, 
And  at  her  head  I  raised  a  cross, — 

An  empty  cross ! — I  raised  it  there  ; 
To  mark  the  lonely  mound  of  moss 

That  covers  her,  my  matchless  fair. 
An  empty  cross  !  no  drooping  head  ! 
No  symbol  of  a  Lord  that's  dead  ! 
No  figure  telling  by  its  gloom 
That  Death,  triumphant,  rules  the  tomb  ! 
An  empty  cross  ! — The  risen  Lord  !-— 
It  symbolizes  life  restored  ! 
And  tells! — oh,  what  a  jubilee  ! 
That  Marg'ret  lives,  and  waits  for  me  ! 
For  me  ! — upon  that  deathless  shore 
Where  howling  storms  shall  rage  no  more." 


130  THK   RETROSPECT. 

While  talking  thus,  he  seemed  to  be 
But  dwelling  on  those  thoughts  refined 

That  once  possessed  his  spirit  free, 
Before  affliction  touched  his  mind. 

But  starting  wildly  up,  he  said, 

'My  precious  time  I've  long  delayed 

And  I  must  go  !  must  go  !  must  go  ! 

Let  howling  tempests  drive  the  snow  ! 

What  care  I  for  the  things  below  ! 

No  house  shall  shield  my  troubled  head  ! 

My  child  is  lost !  my  wife  is  dead  ! 

Oh,  let  the  cold  winds  bitter  blow ! 

I'll  seek  the  lost,  through  wind  and  snow ! 

And  I  must  go  !  must  go  !  must  go  ! 

'  They  took  me  to  my  little  child 
When  it  but  slept!  and  sweetly  smiled  ! 
And  said  the  little  darling  died  ! 
And  it  should  lie  by  Marg'ret's  .side ! 

They  lied  !  they  lied  ! 

It  never  died ! 


THE  RETROSPECT. 

'Twas  but  asleep  ! — 

Oh  !  I  could  weep 
To  tell  how  they  refused  delay ! — 
And  how  they  tore  my  child  away  ! — 
As  I !  its  father !  on  this  arm 
Was  hugging  its  pale  form  from  harm  ! 
But  round  its  cold, — its  icy  form, 
I  wrapt  my  coat  to  keep  it  warm ; 
And  now  I  wear  no  coat !  no  !  no  ! 
For  it  would  feel  this  biting  snow  ! 
An  angel  came  and  told  me  so ! — 
Before  the  storm  the  angel  came, 
And  called  my  darling  lamb  by  name ; 
And  did  to  me  this  truth  unfold  : 
When  I  am  warm  the  child  is  cold  ; 

And  I  will  go ! 

Through  wind  and  snow  ! 
Until  I  find  my  precious  fair ! 
With  sky-like  eyes!  and  flaxen  hair! 
That  Marg'ret,  when  she  soared  above, 
Left  with  me  here  ! — Her  child  of  love  !' 


132  THE  RETROSPECT. 

And  then  he  took  a  bundle  small, 

That  held  its  little  clothing  all, 

And  spread  them  out,  with  tender  care, 

To  see  if  all  were  in  repair. 

And  as  he  viewed  the  poor  display, 

And  turned  the  pieces  o'er, 
The  madman  seemed  to  pass  away; 

As  oft  from  memory's  store, 
Kind  words  would  fall,  amid  the  maze, 
That  gave  a  glimpse  of  better  days. 

'This  dress,  all  stitched  along  the  band, 
Was  made,'  he  said,  '  by  Marg'ret's  hand. 
Yes  !  oft  when  night  around  had  flung 
Its  mantle  dark,  she  sewed,  and  sung 
With  me,  the  songs  of  love  and  praise ; 
The  sweet  refrain  of  brighter  days. 
Oh,  these  were  happy  times  ! — they're  flown  1 
And  I  am  left,  alone  !  alone  ! 

1  This  little  coat,  all  wrought  so  fine, 
Our  baby's  coat ! — 'twas  hers  and  mine ! 


THE  RETROSPECT.  133 

Was  made  when  she,  so  thin  and  pale, 
Looked  haggard. — Oh  !  with  no  avail 
I  strove  my  bursting  grief  to  hide, 
As  I  sat  loving  by  her  side. 
She  saw  that  I  was  nearly  wild, 
When  stooping  o'er  she  kissed  the  child ; 
And  asked  me,  as  she  saintly  smiled, 
That  I  should  read  to  her,  anon, 
The  fourteenth  chapter  of  Saint  John. 
The  mansion  doors  were  open  wide, 
And  soon  she  found  her  Saviour's  side ; 

But  I  was  left 
The  honored  lot, 

Of  her  bereft, 

To  mark  the  spot 

Where  Marg'ret  sleeps,  until  that  day 
When  Christ  shall  come  in  grand  array ; 
And  earth  shall  melt  like  wax  away. 
But  none  are  left  to  mark  the  breast 
Of  mother-earth  where  I  shall  rest ; 


134  THE  RETROSPECT. 

No  !  none  to  place  a  single  stone 
Or  cross  where  I  must  sleep  alone. 

'  And  oh,  these  shoes !  so  worn  and  old, 
Recalls  me  now  my  child  is  cold  ! 
Lost !  lost !  oh,  lost !  she  waits  for  me, 
While  time  is  ebbing  like  the  sea  ! 
How  oft  these  little  shoes,  to  meet 
Thy  mother's  love,  have  borne  thy  feet  !— 
Have  brought  to  me  a  welcome  sweet ! 

And  yet  while  blowing 

Clouds  are  snowing 

I've  halting,  stopped  !     Oh,  woe  is  me  ! 
I'm  coming  now !  I'll  come  to  thee  !' 

But  we  against  his  going  stood, — 
We  humored  every  changing  mood 

In  kindness,  to  delay 
The  man  till  Reuben  could  prepare 
In  town  a  safe  asylum  there, 
Soon  as  returned  the  day. 


THE  RETROSPECT.  135 

But  with  a  madman's  cunning  art 
He  shrewdly  played  a  sleeper's  part ; 
Till  he  perceived  his  watcher  slept, 
Then  softly  from  the  kitchen  crept, 
And  found  the  child  and  mother's  home, — 
Above  the  storm, — in  Glory's  dome, — 
For  when  the  sun  rose,  all  aglow, 
We  tracked  the  stranger  o'er  the  snow, 
And  found  a  frozen  form  below. 


Poor  Reuben,  moved  with  pitying  grief, 

Wept  o'er  a  sight  so  sad  to  see, 
Although  it  gave  a  soul  relief, 

And  set  the  wanderer's  spirit  free. 
And  all  remaining  yet  to  do 
We  did,  with  Christian  feeling  true. 
We  gave  to  this  wild  stranger's  head 
A  resting-place  among  our  dead, 
And  carved  upon  his  cross  of  stone, 
'  To  Marg'ret's  spouse — a  poor  unknown.' 


136  THE  RETROSPECT. 

But  I  have  wandered  long,  to  tell 

The  incidents  and  scenes  I  saw, 
In  changes  that  around  me  fell, 
As  moved  by  some  strange  occult  spell, 

And  not  by  nature's  law. 
But  when  I  wandered  on  this  range 

We  left  the  place  a  thriving  town, 
And  yet,  it  seems  a  power  strange, 
That  made  that  village  by  its  change 

This  city  of  renown. 

In  vain  I  look  around  to  find 
A  scene  familiar  to  my  mind, 
As  when  the  red  man's  warlike  hand 
Did  battle  for  his  native  land : 
But  all  in  vain  ; — the  grand  array 
Reveals  the  old  has  passed  away  ; — 
No  ! — not  one  poor  old  Indian  brave 
Remains  .to  deck  his  father's  grave, 
Or  tell  how  once  his  savage  race 
Were  masters  of  this  settled  place. 


THE  RETROSPECT.  137 

An  alien  people  well  may  dread 

The  bold  Caucasian's  onward  tread  ; 

If  they  but  meet,  or  cross  his  frown, 

The  ruthless  white  man  ploughs  them  down. 


But  to  the  country  came  a  rest, 

As  thriving  cities  filled  the  West ; — 

The  commerce  with  the  East 
Conveniences  for  travel  made, 
And  transportations  for  the  trade, 

As  things  around  increased. 

Long  wagon  trains,  the  freighted  class 
Like  merchant  fleets,  would  daily  pass; 
And  proudly  on  they  bore  their  course, 
With  bells  arched  o'er  each  leading  horse ; 

Arched  o'er  their  collars  broad. 
That  gave  a  merry  signal  clear, 
A  jingling,  chime-like,  ringing  air, 

To  all  upon  the  road  : 


138  THE  RETROSPECT. 

And  then,  the  stage,  in  bright  array 
Passed  swiftly  by,  and  da<hed  away  : — 
His  four-in-hand  the  driver  held, 
While  every  heart  with  rapture  swelled, 
Within,  to  look,  to  hear,  and  see 
The  people  in  their  merry  glee, 
Who  cheered  them  as  they  swept  along, 
Or  gave  an  echo  to  their  song. 


And  at  the  station  all  was  life, 
All  bustle, — all  in  active  strife ; 
Where  hostlers  dashed  about  with  speed 
To  groom  the  panting,  smoking  steed 

That  late  so  quickly  flew  : 
Or  harness  for  the  onward  trip  ; — 
To  hear  the  driver  crack  his  whip  ! 

Then  quickly  out  of  view  ! 
But  every  gilded  cloud  we  see 
Has  still  a  shadow  on  the  lea, 

Where  brightest  flowers  dwell. 


THE  RETROSPECT.  139 

And  staging  had  its  dismal  side, 

To  those  whom  business  forced  to  ride, 

That  broke  the  fancy  spell. 
For  with  an  uncongenial  throng, 

Their  time  appeared  a  cruel  waste, 
All  jostled,  with  a  crowd  along 

Devoid  of  courtesy  or  taste : 
Where  nothing  could  relieve  the  thrall 
That  bound  them  in  a  space  so  small. 

And  oft  the  driver's  early  horn 
Aroused  the  village  by  its  blast, 

To  see  a  weary  crowd,  forlorn, 

All  dusted  o'er,  and  travel- worn, 
With  heads  of  drooping  cast. 

For  staging,  through  a  chilly  night, 

Will  make  the  best  a  sorry  sight, 
To  hail  the  coming  morn. 

Give  me  the  steam  !     The  modern  steam ! 
That  as  a  swallow  skims  the  stream 


140  THK   RETROSPECT. 

The  train  sweeps  on,  and,  like  the  wind, 
Leaves  distance,  as  a  waste  behind. 
Far  better  than  the  stage  of  old, — 
The  heated  cars  defy  the  cold  ; 
And  human  skill  has  in  the  race 
Annihilated  time,  and  space. 


The  grand  hotels  of  modern  time 
Were  never  reached  in  dreams  sublime 

By  us  in  days  of  yore. 
Where  now  the  costly  carpets  greet 
The  tramp  of  every  comer's  feet, 

We  had  the  sanded  floor. 
The  wayside  inn,  in  days  of  old, 
Was  but  a  kind  of  social  fold, 
Where  man  and  beast  could  stop,  and  feel 
At  home ;  or  find  a  hasty  meal, 
As  time  allowed  a  lengthened  stay, 
Or  business  urged  their  onward  way. 


THE  RETROSPECT. 

No  architectural  pile  arose 
Their  stately  grandeur  to  impose 

With  domes,  and  turrets  high. 
Our  ancient  inns  were  mostly  low, 
Built  all  for  use,  with  little  show, 
And  near  the  door  would  standing  be 
A  pump,  and  trough,  and  bucket  free. 

For  every  passer-by. 
While  overhead  a  swinging  sign, 
Of  letters, — or  some  crude  design, 

Would  catch  the  trav'ler's  eye ; 
And  tell  the  tavern  standing  there 
Was  one  of  comfort, — rich  of  fare, — 
Built  for  the  rover's  special  care. 

Within, — the  kitchen  gave  a  view, 
Indorsing  much,  the  sign  as  true ; 
For  from  the  spacious  hearth  the  blaze 
Would  send  its  heat,  and  cast  its  rays 
Of  gold,  to  gild  away  the  gloom 
Of  every  corner  round  the  room. 


142  THE  RETROSPECT. 

And  in  the  chimney-place  there  swung 
An  iron  crane,  and  on  it  hung 
The  boiling  vessels,  in  array, 
That  sung  their  merry  roundelay; 
While  hanging  from  the  rafters  high 
Were  tongues,  and  hams,  and  flitch  to  dry  ; 

That  gave  a  scene  of  cheer. 
And  round  the  hearth,  in  social  chat, 
Commingling,  for  the  evening,  sat 
All  those — the  waiters  of  the  inn, 
And  those  who  served  the  guests,  within, 

From  every  scattered  sphere. 

Now  gorgeous  ! — grand  ! — to  grace  our  day- 
Magnificent  in  rich  display  ! 
Hotels  arise,  that  almost  seem 
The  substance  of  an  Eastern  dream. 
Each  mirrored  room, — Corinthian  hall, — 
Their  crystal  lights, — their  comforts  all, — 
Where  round,  in  winter,  softly  flows    , 
A  warmth  that  lulls  us  to  repose, 


THE   RETROSPECT.  143 

As  if  the  stately  palace,  grand, 

Belonged  to  some  enchanted  land. 

Not  so  the  rural  inns  of  old ; 

Rude  were  their  drawing-rooms,  and  cold, 

Naught  but  the  log-piled  hearth,  whose  heat, 

Midway  across  the  room,  would  meet 

An  arctic  rigor  from  without, 

That  forced  us  in  a  group  about 

The  hearth,  with  blaze  aglow ; 
Where  merry  hearts, — a  buoyant  throng ! — 
For  people  in  those  days  were  strong, 
Would  tell  their  tales,  or  pass  the  jest, 
In  rivalry,  to  prove  the  best  ; — 

But  this  was  long  ago  ! 

And  yet,  I  often  loath  to  praise 

The  change  of  time; — for  pride  displays 

A  falling  off,  we  all  can  trace, 

In  what  evolves  a  manly  race. 

The  girl,  who  only  dreams  of  roses, 

As  she  on  silk  and  down  reposes, 


144  THE   RETROSPECT. 

Presents  a  sorry  sight, 
As  one  to  make  a  man  a  wife, 
When  forced  to  stem  the  tide  of  life 

Against  misfortune's  blight. 
I  think  the  race,  in  torrid  clime, 

Those  gardens  of  free  birth, 
Where  nature's  rich,  prolific  soil 
Gives  all  to  man  without  his  toil, 

And  leaves  his  life  a  dearth, 
Would  quickly  reach  their  end  of  time, 
Amid  their  gorgeous  scenes,  sublime, 
If  they  were  not  repeopled  there 
With  north-men,  who  in  frozen  air 
Had  fought  their  sterile  hills,  amain, 
Their  scanty  needs  of  life  to  gain. 
So  boys,  who  reared  as  tender  plants, 
Are  apt  to  prove  but  frail  gallants ; 
Unfit  to  serve  their  country's  need  ; 
Unfit  to  do  a  daring  deed  ; 
Unfit  to  brave,  in  manly  strife, 
The  struggles  of  an  active  life. 


THE   RETROSPECT.  145 

But  I  must  stop  ! — 

And  yet  a  thought 
Has  on  my  flying  fancy  caught ! — 
There  is  a  mighty  change,  no  breath 
Can  tell  its  wonders. — It  is  Death  ! 
I've  seen  its  work; — of  all  who  trod 
This  land  at  first,  above  the  sod 
I ! — only  I !  remain  to-day  ; 
The  rest — the  rest  have  passed  away. 
The  change  has  brought  strange  men  unknown, 
To  those  who  gathered  with  our  own  ; 
And  as  I  o'er  the  scene  survey, 
I  wonder,  where,  oh  !  where  are  they  ; 
The  many  who  have  met  their  doom 
Of  fate  beyond  the  silent  tomb? 

Death  gathers  all,  of  human  mould, 

Within  his  dark  eternal  fold. 

The  poor,  the  rich,  the  weak,  the  brave ; 

The  beggar's  rags, — the  king  his  crown  ; 

Both  worthless, — both  must  lay  them  down, 

And  sleep  within  the  grave. 
10 


146  THE  RETROSPECT. 

0  mystery  of  mysteries !     Thou 

To  whom  the  living  world  must  bow; — 
Thou  canst  but  conquer  things  of  earth  ; 
The  righteous  have  a  blessed  birth  ; 
From  all  the  might  that  rests  in  thee, 
When  thou  hast  set  the  spirit  free. 
I've  watched  the  hero's  parting  sigh 
I've  seen  the  honored  statesman  die; 
I've  laid  the  baby  from  my  breast 
Down  in  its  narrow  couch  of  rest ; 
But  soon  I  wiped  my  tears  away, 
For  well  I  knew  a  brighter  day 
They  saw,  where  we  shall  meet  above, 
In  Glory's  dome  of  deathless  love. 

1  go ! — and  you  must  follow  soon, 
Though  now  in  vigor's  youthful  bloom  ; 
For  all  must  soon  receive  the  call 
That  spreads  for  us  the  sable  pall. 

Oh,  what  is  pride  !  oh,  what  is  power  ! 
Or  pomp  in  that  dread  final  hour  ! 


THE  RETROSPECT.  J47 

When  every  form  of  mortal  clay, 
Must  fade  to  dust,  and  pass  away  ! 
I've  often  wondered  what  we  love 

In  those  of  earth,  to  whom  we  cling  ? 

But  logic — science — fail  to  bring 
A  reason,  or  a  fact,  to  prove 

The  mystery  of  the  thing. 


We  see  around  the  couch  of  death 

The  loved  ones  watch  the  fleeting  breath  ; — 

The  potions, — vying  hands  prepare, — 

The  couch  is  smoothed  with  tender  care, — 

They  stand,  and  watch  the  taper  light 

Of  life,  that's  flickering  in  their  sight ; 

Until  the  spirit  takes  its  flight : 

Then  turn,  and  leave  to  strangers'  hands 

To  do  the  last  the  world  commands  ; 

And  quickly  bear  away  that  form, 

Which  once  with  love  and  life  was  warm. 


148  THE  RETROSPECT. 

I  know  we  love  the  soul ! — and  why  ? 

Because  the  soul  can  never  die  ! 

If  thou  wouldst  test  this  truth,  go  tell 

The  tender  tale,  and  watch  the  spell ; 

'Tis  from  the  eye  we  see  the  glow 

Of  love's  soft  beam  so  sweetly  flow, 

That  for  a  moment  sorrow's  power 

Is  lost  in  Eden's  blissful  hour. 

But  when  the  spirit-soul  has  fled, 

Go  whisper  to  the  silent  dead  ; 

And  watch  the  eye, — the  glassy  stare 

Will  tell  that  love's  no  longer  there. 

O  death  !  thy  bitter  sting  has  flown 

When  God  but  gathers  in  his  own. 

O  grave !  thy  victory  is  o'er 

When  we  shall  meet  on  Canaan's  shore. 

But  now,  before  we  say  good-night, 
Just  look  above  ; — behold  the  sight, — 
The  starry  hosts,  without  a  rest, 
Are  ever  sinking  in  the  west ; 


THE  RETROSPECT.  149 

While  from  the  brink  of  eastern  space 
Roll  others  up  to  fill  their  place  : 
And  in  the  dome  of  spangled  light 
There  shines  the  brilliant  queen  of  night, 
Who  pours  around  her  silv'ry  beam, 
Like  floods  of  blessing,  all  serene. 
And  so  mankind,  since  time  had  birth, 
Has  sunk  from  off  the  living  earth  ; 
While  others  rise,  to  .fill  the  room 
Of  those  who  pass  to  meet  their  doom. 
Yet  over  all,  oh,  glorious  sight ! 
The  spirit  sees  Jehovah's  light, 
Who  came,  incarnate,  here  to  save 
The  lost,  from  dark  perdition's  grave. 
Light-of-the-world,  Almighty  ray, — 
Incarnate  God  !  oh,  guide  our  way  ! 
Until  at  last,  by  mercy's  grace, 
We  all  shall  see  Thy  hallow'd  face  ! 

Good-night !  good-night ! — before  in  sleep 
We  close  our  eyes, — in  earnest  prayer, 


150  THE   RETROSPECT. 

We'll  pray  our  Father  God  to  keep 

Us  all  within  His  special  care. 
Good-night ! — for  good  it  is  to  be 
From  sickness,  pain,  and  sorrow  free ; 
To  dwell  in  peace,  without  a  fear, 
In  kindred  love's  own  circle  dear. 

Good-night !  remember,  ere  \ve  sleep, 
The  thoughtless  sinner  ever  nigh  ; 
The  heathen  dark, — the  poor  who  weep, 

And  crave  them  mercies  from  on  high. 
And  then,  return  for  blessings  given, 
Our  own  best  heartfelt  thanks  to  Heaven  ; 
That  we,  in  these  our  fleeting  years, 
Are  placed  beyond  the  gloom  of  tears. 

Good-night !  good-night !  I  give  you  here 
Such  blessings  as  my  love  can  give ; 

And  oh,  my  children,  ever  dear  ! 
I  pray  that  you  in  God  may  live. 


THE   RETROSPECT. 

That  you  may  walk  the  path  of  right, 

Nor  ever  wander  from  His  sight ; 

That  He  will  guide  us  by  His  might, 

Until  we  sleep  in  death,  good-night. 

Good-night !  good-night !  good-night !  good-night !" 


THE    END. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


Form  L9-100m-9,'52(A3105)444 


^—   J  »  A-J  A. 

Um  AN^LJSS 


PS 


Jones  - 


2151  The  retrospect. 
J698r 


PS 

2151 

J693r 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


